Just A Debt
by Blam-Like-A-Gun
Summary: It's been just awhile since the big battle and the two partners aren't taking it as well as they thought they would, now that they had the time to think things through. "And you'd know better than to stop me by now."
1. Chapter 1

"Well it was nice of Stark to offer us a whole level of his tower." Clint Barton mused as he walked into the very much furnished level of Stark Tower.

Amazingly, it remained pretty much untouched in the aftermath of the arduous battle against an alien invasion. There were other perfectly fine levels as well. From what they knew, Stark had given Doctor Bruce Banner a level to himself as well.

The brightly lit area of their level went compatibly well with the colour scheme of basically everything.

The common area had a lengthy red velvet couch, along with a thin-screen smart TV. Light gleamed off the glossy surface of the counter of the kitchen area, the stainless steel of its appliances showing off the beauty of its simplicity.

"I guess it'd be easier for Fury to contact all of us at once." Captain Steve Rogers piped up from behind Clint.

"I call the room at the end." Natasha Romanoff brushed past both men as she approached the furthest room.

"So you're gonna be in your own bed. And I'm gonna be in mine. Sounds like one of us is in the wrong place." Clint joked as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, trying to lift the atmosphere a little.

After the shawarma gathering they had officially warmed up to him despite his...earlier absence. He found it in himself to keep up the good mood, trying not to harp on what he had done. He just wanted to make the others more comfortable with him. And to keep them off his personal guilt party.

In his peripheral vision he could see the Captain turning slightly pink. He stifled a chuckle at the sheer bashfulness in the guy. Objective accomplished. Of course, Natasha wouldn't be called one of SHIELD's best if she didn't notice that. Besides, she knew Clint well.

"Relax Captain, he's just messing with you." She rolled her eyes, leaning against her room door.

Steve broke into a shy smile.

"Or am I?" Clint narrowed his eyes playfully at the Captain.

"Uh that's between you two. I'd rather not guess." Steve said uncomfortably.

"I'm just kidding. We're just partners. And friends."

"Ah. Well, I'm hitting the hay Agent Barton. Agent Romanoff." Steve rubbed his hands together.

"Just Barton is fine, Captain." Clint smiled.

"Well see you in the morning Barton."

"You too, Cap."

Both men took to their rooms, Clint's being directly opposite from his partner's. Right before he went in, he turned to his partner who was eyeing him intently.

"Can I help you in any way?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Which is?"

"Stop blaming yourself."

"I'm not."

"Seriously, you wanna play this game? With me?"

"Nothing is just a game." His eyes hardened.

Why did she have to bring it up?

"Well I'm telling you to stop whatever it is you're doing to yourself." She had a menacing edge to her voice.

Natasha was just trying to help him. Self-pity didn't do anyone any good. She was trying to help him through it.

"I'm frickin fine." He snapped, taking a step towards her.

Surprisingly, Natasha found herself taking a step back in defense.

This made Clint stop in his tracks, and with a slight tilt of his head, he frowned.

"Being fine is overrated." Natasha mumbled quickly and slipped backward into her room.

Her partner was rooted to the same spot, fighting the urge to knock on her door. Sure he was bursting at the seams with guilt, but knowing that the one person that really mattered anyway could see right through him was slightly assuring.

But as the door to his own room closed behind him, whatever remained of Clint's facade completely disintegrated away into a grim countenance as he dropped his duffel bag and fell onto the queen-sized bed.

He was far from relaxed, far from even the slightest hint of happy. He tried to maintain a jovial disposition for the sake of Natasha, while the guilt pretty much ate him from the inside out. He had agreed with her not to do exactly this to himself. But he did it anyway. And she saw it at first glance.

What a failure.

He couldn't help overwhelming himself with guilt. He had killed his fellow agents, and now he could do nothing as their innocent souls haunted him in sleep or in consciousness. The only comfort he had was knowing that his partner cared, and she was right across the hallway.

But she had been a little weird too. She was taking the fact that her partner tried to kill her and was damn near successful, surprisingly well. Clint had a nagging feeling deep inside, but he pushed it away. As long as he knew she was alive and there, things could get better.

He didn't bother to change out of his clothing, letting sleep overtake his fatigued body in an attempt of recuperation.

* * *

It wasn't long though before his eyes snapped wide open, his breathing heavy as images of the broken bodies of previous comrades assaulted his mind.

Clint got up slowly, and dragged his tired body albeit so ever silently to the kitchen for a glass of water to calm his nerves. He was a man of emotions. Although not commonly shown, they were ever present. Not many saw this side of the master marksman.

The hallway was dark. The whole place was dark. It had some lulling effect on Clint as he sat himself by one of the stools at the counter, sipping at his water as he looked out the glass doors to the balcony, where he could see the skyline of the city.

The only light source came from the neon lights outside, as well as a bluish glint from the mystic moonlight. Clint was caught up in his wandering thoughts and burgeoning guilt as he slumped against the countertop.

**TBC**

* * *

**HAHAHA I'M OBSESSED WITH THE AVENGERS AFTER THE MOVIE (Y)**


	2. Chapter 2

_The only light source came from the neon lights outside, as well as a bluish glint from the mystic moonlight. Clint was caught up in his wandering thoughts and burgeoning guilt as he slumped against the countertop._

* * *

Sleep never came easy for Natasha. Her Black Widow alias would have implied she was cold and heartless. But when it came down to the very basis, she was after all just a woman. And she had feelings. She had fears.

Right now, her biggest one was Clint. She never thought the day would come where she'd be afraid of her own partner who had come to be the closest thing to a friend she ever had. Simply put, she had a certain attachment to him. As experience might have taught her, attachments were burdens. Why the hell did she let him close enough for him to know her so well, she had no idea.

But apparently it wasn't a good call, for she had allowed herself to be affected or manipulated by an opportunistic sadist like Loki. She didn't forget a word he said.

Those words struck something deep inside, and since that conversation she told herself time and time again that all she did was owe Clint a debt. Just a debt. Attachment? What attachment? Attachments only dragged her down. Clint and her were just professional partners. They worked well together, that was all there was to it.

She knew sleep wouldn't come readily, and settled with staring at the ceiling as she waited for the young of night to fly by. But soon the room seemed to be closing in on her, leaving her with an aftertaste of claustrophobia.

She sighed as she got onto her feet, trudging to the common area to get away from the enclosed area of her room. She kept her head down, eyes tracing an invisible path her feet were walking on. As her head came up to survey the darkness of the place, her vision zeroed in on a figure by the counter. Squinting her eyes, she could make out those features anywhere.

She approached the majorly distracted being slowly and as she got closer, she called out his name quietly into the deafening silence. "Clint?"

Eyes shot up to meet hers, and what she saw scared her. The bluish glint of the moonlight reflected off the striking grey of Clint's eyes, making it look eerily similar to when Loki had him indoctrinated and controlled.

Natasha's survival instincts kicked into overdrive as her clenched up fists made an attempt to land as many solid punches across his face she could execute. Clint frowned in confusion as his own hands shot up instinctually to grab her by the wrists as a means to stop her.

Clint tried to buy time as he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get anything out she jerked out from his grasp. Both of her hands snaked behind his head swiftly and her fingers nimbly grasped the short ends of his hair.

Using a commendable magnitude of strength, she crashed Clint's head down onto the countertop hard.

"Mother of god, Nat." Clint managed to choke out.

Barely able to hold himself up anymore, he crumpled down onto the pristine floor as the lights turned on all of a sudden.

Steve stood by the light switches with a concerned expression on his suave face. "What's going on?"

Both Steve and Natasha's eyes adjusted to the sudden light and their gazes fell upon the man currently on the floor cradling his head, grunting in pain. Natasha's eyes widened as it dawned upon her what she had just done on gut and impulse.

Even through the throbbing pain and the black spots in his vision, Clint didn't miss the slightly shocked expression of his partner's. "It's nothing Cap. I fell and hit my head in the dark."

Natasha gave Clint a pointed look and turned on her heels right then, hurrying back to her room while avoiding any further eye contact. She was cursing herself silently for her rash actions, all the way till she once again locked herself away from the others.

Steve just looked lost behind those sleepy eyelids while Clint slowly got back onto his feet, hunched over as he kept his pulsating head in the lousy comfort of his hands.

"Thank god I have a thick skull." He joked weakly, sparing a glance at the Captain as he walked past squinting through his slightly clouded vision.

With that, Clint retreated back to his room. Left to ponder what just went down between Natasha and him in the silence, he stood in front of the mirror with his hands on the sink in the linked bathroom. Staring at the reflection of the steadily blooming bruise across his forehead, he heaved a heavy sigh.

Steve shook his head unaware of the emotional battles within his two new comrades and switched off the lights, plunging the level yet again into darkness as he returned to his room as well.

* * *

Days had gone by since that particular night. Life was uneventful, for the team had been given some down time for a while. Everything remained status quo between Natasha and Clint. On the surface at least.

Having lived with them for some time, Steve had no inkling of any uneasiness between the two partners. Not to mention Bruce or Tony who came to hang out frequently. Nobody saw any anomalies in their behaviour.

To the outsider's eye, the daily interaction between the two partners was per usual. Except that wasn't the case, and who else to feel the most impact of it but Clint.

He knew. He knew something was off about Natasha, for she hasn't looked directly into his eyes since that night. And for a guy who knew his partner almost inside out, it was baffling for he didn't know why that was so.

It was driving him a little more crazy with every second that ticked by. Most of his nights were shared between brooding over Natasha and drowning painstakingly in the guilt that had yet to go away.

Clint could barely stand not knowing what was affecting his partner so much, and he decided to speak to the Captain about it.

**TBC**

* * *

**Who ships Clint and Natasha? ME. Who ships Jeremy Renner and Scarlett Johansson? ALSO ME.**

**Drop a review :) Tell me what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Clint could barely stand not knowing what was affecting his partner so much, and he decided to speak to the Captain about it._

* * *

On that one late evening, Clint perched himself on his usual elevated corner slightly above the balcony which was slightly hidden in the darkness.

The only person who ever did come out to the balcony was the Captain, who always seemed attracted to the city lights of the modern day. The first time Clint called out for the Captain from his dwelling place, he had the chance of seeing the enhanced human jump in surprise.

Several times after, Clint still took pride in being able to surprise him from the same shadows he lurked in. This time wasn't that much different.

Right on cue, Steve walked out onto the balcony taking a deep breath of cooling air.

"Hi." Clint said simply.

Steve startled for a second, before releasing a short chuckle. "Man it's about time I got used to that."

"No no. It's more fun like this."

"So you say."

"Actually, I have something important to ask you Cap."

"Feel free."

"Did anything happen to Natasha when I was uhh...evil me? Other than the part where Banner's 'other guy' almost squashed her and I tried to kill her." Clint asked distastefully.

"Are you angry with Doctor Banner?"

"Do I have the right to be? I almost killed Natasha too." Clint clenched his fists in that knowledge.

"How did you know Doctor Banner's Hulk tried to kill her?"

"Natasha told me."

"Really?"

Steve never thought the Black Widow to be one to talk about feelings.

"Nah, sharing is not her thing. Banner told me. Apologised actually. Said he felt like he owed me one since I was Natasha's partner." Clint shrugged.

"Am I that fun to tease?"

"Yes. But back to my question, chop chop."

"Nothing happened that I know of. But I do know that she had a talk with Loki to get information, if that means anything. She did seem slightly off after that." Steve replied hesitantly.

"Hmm yeah. She mentioned something about that, but she didn't wanna go into details."

Clint stared out into the blanket of evening sky, remembering the short conversation he had with Natasha after she cognitively recalibrated him.

Some small talk later, Steve went back in while Clint jumped off his corner and back onto the balcony ground.

He needed to find Tony Stark.

* * *

"Legolas wannabe, what brings you to my not so humble level of my not so humble tower?" Tony asked proudly as Clint strode into his office.

"Can you do me a favour Stark?"

"Well that depends. Does it involve risk and fun?" Tony thrummed his fingers against one another.

"Hack into SHIELD and get me all the security footage of the Helicarrier on the day I almost destroyed it." Clint requested bluntly.

"That was awfully straightforward. What do you need it for?" Tony eyed his so called team member inquisitively.

"None of your business."

"Actually it is. Because I'm the one doing the hacking."

"Can you just get me the footage?"

"Not until I know why you wa-" Tony was cut off soon enough.

"For the love of god. Just do it." Clint had a subtle pleading edge to his gruff words though difficult to pick up on.

But Tony Stark wasn't called a genius for nothing. He felt genuinely bad for the guy. Arrogant he might be, but empathetic he was too. Whatever Clint needed the footage for, it must have meant a great deal to him.

"Fine, give me an hour. I'll send the footage to the computer in your room." Tony agreed with a promising look.

"Thanks. Appreciate it." Clint muttered loud enough for the billionaire to hear.

With that, Clint headed back to his level and waited patiently for the footage to arrive on the computer.

* * *

Clint sat in the chair, hands cupping his chin as he stared at the illuminated screen. His door was discreetly locked, and a set of earphones connected to the computer. He didn't want anyone else to know what he was watching.

The sudden appearance of a file caught Clint's attention, which had him plugging the earphones into his ears as he hovered the cursor over the video file. He double-clicked, and it started playing.

The scenes which played out did nothing but add on to the guilt he already harboured. He could see clearly how he brought devastation to the people he worked with. The memories of hurting them were there but blurry.

Well not anymore. The footage was more than sufficient to plant those images in his brain forever. Alas, he came across the part where Natasha spoke with Loki.

With every threat that came out of that god's mouth, Clint's eyes widened by a fraction. That's it. She was afraid. Of him.

As the footage proceeded to play, Clint came upon his own fight with Natasha. Although he could remember fighting with her, the details were unclear and foggy in his head. He watched intently as they fought it out, and- dear god he shot at his partner and had a knife to her neck.

He paused the video. Looking closely, he saw his eyes the colour of Tesseract blue. And everything just clicked.

Shutting it down and abandoning the computer, Clint made it across the hallway and knocked on Natasha's door.

"What's up Clint?" The red head greeted as she opened the door.

He unceremoniously pushed his way in, coming to a stop in the middle of her room.

"You tell me what's up Nat." He replied, crossing his arms.

"I'm not getting your drift exactly." She mirrored his stance, yet staring at the uneven patterns of the parquet flooring.

"Why won't you look at me when I talk to you?"

Natasha let her eyes drift up his torso, and her eyes landed on the wall behind him.

"I am looking at you." She refuted.

"No, you're looking over my head at the wall behind me."

"Does it really matter?"

"It does when my own partner doesn't want to look me in the eyes. Not just today. Ever since the night you slammed my head, you haven't really looked at me once."

"Sorry about your head."

"That's not the point. The point is, you don't wanna look at me."

"That's not true."

"Then tell me why."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Actually, I know why."

The statement made her eyes meet his perfectly grey ones for the first time in quite a while. But she did it flinchingly so.

"And why's that?" She probed quietly.

"You're afraid of me."

Silence trailed for a surprisingly long few seconds.

"But I'm not supposed to be." She said it more to herself than to Clint.

"I'm sorry."

Natasha just shook her head numbly. "It's not your fault."

"You wouldn't be as affected if it weren't for what Loki said."

"How do you know wha- you saw the security footage." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Got Stark to get it for me."

"Figures. Sounds like you."

"Exactly. You know me well enough to know that I'll never hurt you on purpose. You know that, Nat." Clint's gaze softened.

Having gone through so much with Natasha, he felt genuinely hurt that she was scared of him.

"I know. But I shouldn't have been so affected by what happened. I'm losing my touch. You're too close." She admitted.

"What?"

**TBC**

* * *

**I wish they would do a movie about Hawkeye and Blackwidow's past right? I mean...like what happened in frickin Budapest?**

**Spazz with me! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

_"I know. But I shouldn't have been so affected by what happened. I'm losing my touch. You're too close." She admitted._

_"What?"_

* * *

"I let you get too close. Close enough to know my secrets. What the hell was I thinking? I should have just stuck with owing you a debt."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that if we had simply maintained a professional partnership with no friendships, no nothing in the mix, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"But we did become friends. Close friends. No?" Clint's deep grey eyes bore into Natasha's.

He didn't like where the conversation was going. Guess he didn't put much thought into just barging in for a talk. She was one of the main things that were keeping him sane, the lifebuoy that kept him afloat in his abyss of self-deprecation. And right now it sounded like she was giving up on him as well.

"No Clint. Whatever we have, was built upon a debt. A debt I owe you for sparing my life." She was on a streak of self-denial.

"Do I really mean that little to you?" Hurt and anger flashed across his worn face momentarily.

These snippets of vulnerability only surfaced when the two were with each other. The usual steely exterior vanished just for a short period of time when it was just the two of them.

Instead, they were plagued with signs of weariness from the numerous unspoken horrors they had been through. That alone spoke volumes of how deep whatever their relationship was, went.

Seeing the hurt etched on Clint's face, Natasha felt an instant pang of regret. But the will of self-preservation was prevalent, as she forced herself to continue.

"Having to care for someone else is dangerous." She avoided a direct answer.

"So what, you're just gonna throw me to the side like some doll, is that it?"

"I didn't say that."

"To you, I'm just a debt that needs to be repaid." Clint stated, never having felt so disappointed in his life.

Even his closest friend was giving up on him. Perhaps he should have given up on himself too. Maybe he didn't deserve to even have one friend. That's what Fate seemed to be telling him anyway. Phil Coulson was dead, and Natasha saw no worth in their friendship anymore. They were all abandoning him one by one.

He felt angry. Angry at Loki, angry at Natasha, and ultimately angry with himself.

"So if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you'd respect my professional privacy and leave my room." It was indubitably painful for her to force such bitter words out of her mouth.

But she felt that it was for the better. Clint was raging on the inside like a fiery inferno, frowning hard at his partner as his eyes conveyed all the anger and hurt he was feeling. But he breathed sharply through his nose and steeled his expression down to the most miniscule detail.

"Alright then. I won't disturb you any further. Good night...Romanoff." He forced out the most faked smile, so bluffingly polite as he avoided her eyes this time, leaving the room in a seemingly calm manner.

Natasha couldn't deny feeling a contraction in her chest when he went off their first name basis. She was sorry she had to do this, but it was much safer this way. Having no attachments was better. Their enemies wouldn't be able to use them against each other.

And as she settled herself atop her bedspread, she could hear Clint's anguish in one cry of outburst as he very audibly punched the wall. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to ignore the pain she caused him by bringing their friendship down to shambles.

* * *

It was just a couple of days since that demoralising talk Clint and Natasha had when the rest of the team came to realise that something had shifted between the two partners.

All of them were hanging out lazily in the common area, listening to Tony going on and on about his personal achievements. The first thing Tony, Bruce and Steve picked up was that Clint and Natasha were sitting unusually far apart from each other. They were practically polar ends.

Huh the irony. Polar ends were supposed to attract. Not repel.

At first Tony had raised his eyebrow at the unusual arrangement, but rousing no reaction from both of them he continued with his speech.

At one point of time, Clint stood up abruptly and claimed "I gotta go."

He couldn't stand it. He felt pretty much overcrowded. He needed some alone time.

"Where? I'm not done talking about how I amazingly created this element." Tony tapped his fingers on his arc reactor.

"I already know how." Clint stated blandly.

"You do?"

"I do." Clint confirmed.

He was a SHIELD agent. Of course he did. It helped that Natasha was once assigned to the guy as well. She had told him many things about Tony Stark.

Natasha. That left a sour taste in his mouth. She gave up on him.

"How?" Tony continued.

"You're the genius. Figure it out, Jimmy Neutron."

"I'll just take that as a compliment. There is no way my hair looks like a giant acorn." The suddenly self-conscious man ran a hand through his hair.

"You look fine pretty boy. Well I'm off." He gave a courteous nod and head for the door.

Right when his hand came into contact with the door knob, a voice stopped him in the act.

"Where are you planning to go?" Bruce piped up from beside Natasha.

Bruce Banner was a quiet man. But at that moment, he felt like he had to say something. It was just a feeling.

"Yeah where?" Natasha herself had her curiosity piqued.

She couldn't help herself. It was so routine for her to know the whereabouts of her partner.

Clint turned his head partially, showing just one side of his face. Keeping his eyes on the floor, his grip on the doorknob tightened.

"Does it really matter Romanoff? All you need to know is that I'll be back." He forced out, promptly turning the doorknob and leaving.

Under his breath though, he whispered "But hell would be a rather good place about now."

He had nobody to help keep his monsters at bay. Nope, he had to fight them off himself. And he was losing.

Natasha stared at the door closing on Clint. She wondered where he was possibly going. She used to have a read on him, but not recently.

_This. This_ was exactly what she was trying to avoid. She was _caring_. Caring just meant inexorable hurt.

Meanwhile, she missed the silent conversation the men were having.

_'Romanoff?'_ Tony mouthed in enquiry to the other two.

Bruce shook his head unknowingly, while Steve shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

Tony rubbed his chin in thought_. What happened between those two?_

The three men needed a plan.

**TBC**

* * *

**Gosh I'm getting near obsessive over Clint/Natasha. Why the hell isn't there gonna be a movie about them? :( Are they blind to the chemistry? Makes me spiral into momentary depression. KIDDING xD**


	5. Chapter 5

_'Romanoff?' Tony mouthed in enquiry to the other two._

_Bruce shook his head unknowingly, while Steve shrugged his shoulders in confusion._

_Tony rubbed his chin in thought. What happened between those two?_

_The three men needed a plan._

* * *

The imbalance in Clint's and Natasha's partnership was further accentuated when the guys found Clint subtly withdrawing into himself, rather than spending time with the partner whom they deemed was quite close to him during their last mission against the Chitauri.

He kept to himself at first, always spending his time upon his dwelling spot almost all the time. He loved the tranquility that came with the breeze out in the open. Most importantly, he liked to see over all that was happening from high up.

He found momentary peace with the feeling of being in control up there, control over all the people he could easily see and spy on. It helped steer away the distinct images of the people he had indirectly caused to die, images that invaded his headspace constantly.

Especially Phil Coulson. There was never gonna be a better handler than Coulson. He was a really close friend. Other than him and Natasha, he had no one left.

He felt horrible on the inside every second of everyday. Each time he saw his own reflection in the mirror he would have had to resist the ravaging temptation to break the glass before him into a million irreparable pieces. To watch his own blood fall in drops upon the floor as penance.

In his own solitary company, he wondered why he hadn't gone over the edge already. He knew the guys were talking about him as well. Who wouldn't?

That fact was just further confirmed when Steve decided to talk to him out on the balcony one evening. Usually he'd know to keep mum and enjoy the silence together with Clint. The Cap had tried hard to stay quiet for quite awhile and Clint appreciated the notion.

But this time was different.

"Barton?" Steve had his elbows upon the railings of the balcony.

Steve had his eyes squinted in the partial darkness in an attempt to focus on the troubled agent.

In return, the aforementioned agent relented and sighed "Might as well call me Clint."

He didn't mind at all. In fact, he wanted to be called Clint. It wasn't like anyone still called him by his first name. There was ever only just Natasha that did. But that was thrown out of the window now wasn't it?

"Fine, Clint. Do you wanna talk, son?"

"No offence Cap, but you look younger than I do…that sounded like a compliment."

"Sorry. Force of habit."

"It's fine. Just feels weird."

"But still, do you need to talk?"

"Who's asking?"

"Just me. As a friend if you consider me to be one."

"I guess. But to answer your question, no. I'm fine. Still very sane." Clint tried to quip.

"Because you seem like you need to talk."

"Or you guys just think that I do."

"Guys? What guys?"

"Give me some credit here. Doesn't take Einstein to figure out what you, Stark and Banner have been discussing about. Me."

"Well since it's out there, I won't deny it. We just feel like something is off between you and Natasha."

"Since when did you get to call her Natasha?" Clint grew slightly possessive, eyes flashing dangerously at the man beneath him.

"Not long ago. The others call her that too. We did after all save the world together. Makes sense that something that big would bring people closer right?"

Clint's mind screamed at the Captain in protest. _Wrong! He couldn't be any more far off_.

"On second thought, she did threaten to disembowel Stark when he gave her nicknames. So…not that close." Steve continued slowly, making a face.

Clint relaxed a bit at this. "Nothing's wrong. Partners do get bad days too."

"So you admit it has something to do with Natasha."

"Just leave it. If you're worried it'll affect my performance should a mission come in, I can tell you it won't." Clint shut himself off right then from the conversation.

Steve could sense it. "But if you ever need to hang out or talk though..."

"Yeah I know. Thanks."

"I'm gonna head back in. Are you sure there isn't anything I can do for you?"

"I just told you I'm fi- actually...yes you can." A thought ran through Clint's mind quickly.

"And that would be?"

"Could you bring a few pieces of paper? And a pen."

"Sure. What do you need them for?"

"Bring 'em here. And I'll show you."

Steve paused for a moment, but grabbed at the bonding opportunity.

"I'll be right back." Steve held up a finger and went back in.

In less than two minutes, Steve came back with the stuff in his hands, waiting for Clint to do whatever he was supposed to do. Upon the Cap's arrival, Clint jumped off his spot and landed right in front of the Captain with precision.

"Gimme the pen and the paper." Clint asked, receiving the stationery from Steve.

Steve watched as Clint turned his back towards him, and started what seemed like writing on the paper. Steve was pretty curious about what his friend was doing. Was it some sort of 21st century trend?

By the time Clint turned back around, Steve saw a paper aeroplane in the archer's hands. Its edges and creases were accurately folded and in place.

"What are you gonna do with that?" Steve frowned as he inquired.

"This." Clint stared into the open space for a few seconds, suddenly jerking to face a direction before throwing the paper aeroplane out into its vastness.

"You know that's littering." Steve chided, forever the righteous and upright model citizen.

He turned his gaze from the paper aeroplane which was flying with the breeze to Clint.

"No it's not." The marksman argued.

"What did you write in it?"

"You'll find out."

"You just threw it away."

"So?"

Steve peered over the balcony edge, down to the pavements of concrete and granite below.

"It's gonna land somewhere on the streets. Or on someone's windshield. Or maybe through someone's window. Or maybe eve-" Steve was cut off when something hit him on the side of his head.

Scratching the offended area slightly, he found a paper aeroplane by his feet.

Turning to look at Clint, he found the archer back at his elevated spot, camouflaged by the darkness of the shadows. However, he could vaguely make out a smirk upon his lips.

"See? I wasn't littering." Clint explained simply.

**TBC**

* * *

**I like me some bromance once in a while :) I LOVE ME SOME JEREMY RENNER ANYTIME.**


	6. Chapter 6

_Scratching the offended area slightly, he found a paper aeroplane by his feet._

_Turning to look at Clint, he found the archer back at his elevated spot, camouflaged by the darkness of the shadows. However, he could vaguely make out a smirk upon his lips._

_"See? I wasn't littering." Clint explained simply._

* * *

Steve unfolded the paper, ink and words coming into sight.

_You live up to your name._

Steve frowned. What was that suppose to mean? Was the message meant for him?

He looked back at Clint, but before he could ask anything he felt something hit his back lightly. Turning on the spot, he found another paper aeroplane.

How did- when did Clint fold another one?

Fingers still grasping the previous piece of paper, Steve unfolded the new one.

_Yup it's meant for you._

Steve's head shot up, eyeing the marksman.

"How did you know I was thinking abo-" But he was cut off yet again when the similar feeling of a paper aeroplane hit his butt.

This time, his hand shot out fast enough to whisk the paper into his grip. He gave Clint a pointed look, unfolding the newest of three paper aeroplanes.

_You're a great leader. Don't doubt that._

"I know you have your own problems too. Thought you could use one of Barton's therapy sessions." Clint joked lightly.

It was true. Steve did have his own issues. He was the man out of time. He felt out of place, like there wasn't really a place he belonged. Old-fashioned, people called him. But there wasn't any other fashion he knew. He sometimes doubted his abilities as a leader to lead the Avengers, and he felt like a misfit in this time period. Did anyone really care about how he felt?

Now he knew someone paid attention. Steve was genuinely touched.

"Interesting therapy method." Steve smoothened out the three pieces of paper in his hands.

"Started off when I was trying to train myself to determine wind direction and its magnitude, wind patterns, calculate trajectory...bla bla details."

"And I was supposed to give you a talk. Now it's the other way round." The Captain shook his head, laughing lightly.

"Glad to help Cap."

"Thank you."

"Pleasantries. Here, last one." Clint threw one more paper aeroplane directly at the Cap's chest.

He didn't stay around to watch Steve unfold his last message. Jumping off from his spot yet again, Clint brushed past the team leader with a small smile and disappeared into his room.

Steve unfolded the paper with rare child-like eagerness that he didn't let show at all usually.

_In time, you'll find your place in this world and I'm sure you'll find yourself fitting in just fine Cap._

Clint was surprisingly very perceptive.

With a meaningful sigh, Steve folded the four pieces of paper neatly enough to fit into his back pocket. He was going to keep those words of encouragement close. However, Steve dragged his hand down his face as he mumbled to himself.

"Steve, Stark's gonna be a pain in the ass for your failed attempt at gathering information."

* * *

After that talk with the Captain, Clint found a new spot for himself where he would go occasionally when he needed more freedom. The very top of Stark Tower, roof if you may.

The view was much more picturesque and captivating up there. It also gave the Captain fewer chances to spring surprise talks on him.

He could wallow in self-pity with no disturbances. It didn't matter for he saw no actual meaning in getting himself out of this deep hole of guilt.

He sat on the edge of the repaired surface of the tall building, fingers tucked under his thighs. This place was the most magnificent at night. It was like he was on the top of the world. Whenever he couldn't sleep, which was getting increasingly frequent, he'd swing up there and he'd just dangle his feet off the edge precariously.

Just like now. The gravitational pull he felt in his legs was gratifying. Thrilling, one might say. Just what he needed to ground himself to reality.

The nightmare he just had was the worst of all. In it, he had succeeded in killing his partner. The scenes that played out in his dream were now literally imprinted in his head.

He remembered distinctly the glint of his own knife held up against her neck. Veins like distributaries to a river appeared on the surface of that exposed skin. His knife sliced the skin on her neck in a perfect red line, splitting it so nicely as it did its job of stopping all oxygen supply.

Her blood came out in spurts, some gaining more distance than the others. Several drops landed on his own face which was hovering over hers. The gargling sound of blood reverberated in his ears, its existence in her windpipe choking her. Crimson blood trailed off the edge of her face, down her cheek, following down to the contours of her ear. Her lips turned blue as her eyes remained wide with unhidden fear, her body shaking violently as it struggled for more oxygen.

And finally, there lay the lifeless body of hers that ceased to move, ceased to be. Skin pale, fingers cold.

Clint shook his head hard, willing the images to go away and never come back. But that was always easier said than done. Even the thought of his nightmare got him breathing hard. He didn't even realise that he was breaking into a cold sweat as his breaths came shallow.

The nightly breeze blew against his skin, his perspiration causing a cooling effect that sent a shudder throughout his body and the hairs on the back of his neck to stand.

"You sure picked a nice place to hang. Why wasn't I invited to the party?" A voice broke the deathly silence from behind.

"You've got to be kidding me." Clint muttered under his breath, and apparently not soft enough.

He didn't even bother turning around.

"Uhh no I'm not to be kidding you, Legolas." Tony Stark plopped down beside Clint but at a suitable distance away.

"Can't find anything new to call me?"

"It'll come to me soon enough."

"I have a name you know."

"Nah, too mainstream. Ironman don't do mainstream. I am my own stream. No really, I could literally make a stream."

Clint gave a ridiculing snort.

"How the hell did you even get up here? Did you climb?" Tony questioned.

"Do you see me with any climbing equipment?"

"Is that a rhetorical question? For all I know, you might have used some honestly amazing ninja skills to climb up here."

Clint sighed. "I found some passageway on the second most top floor that led me here by accident one day. I took a lift."

"There goes my ninja image of you. Damn this place was supposed to be secret. Just for me."

"Sorry about that. I had the urge to explore the place."

"It's alright. I can share this magnificent place with one more person. No big deal."

"You like coming up here too?"

"Gives me inspiration...Peace when I need it. You look like you need it more than I do. You can have my roof."

"Thanks, I guess. Well it's kinda late. Don't you need your beauty sleep?"

"Beauty can wait. I could say the same about you."

"I can't care less about how I look."

"Apparently."

"How did you know I was up here?"

"JARVIS." Tony said simply.

"Right."

Silence ensued for a bit.

"You seem troubled." Tony started.

"Again with the talking."

"This is the 21st century. Freedom of speech baby."

"Come on man. What are you doing here? Seriously."

Clint turned to face Tony fully, his eyes wary.

**TBC**

* * *

**HAHA oh my I'm having fun looking at other people's tumblrs and their adorable comments on how they ship Clintasha and Rennerson :D Thanks for the reviews before, much love to you all (Y)**


	7. Chapter 7

_"You seem troubled." Tony started._

_"Again with the talking."_

_"This is the 21st century. Freedom of speech baby."_

_"Come on man. What are you doing here? Seriously."_

_Clint turned to face Tony fully, his eyes wary._

* * *

"I'm here for you."

"You're gonna give me some talk like the Cap?"

"Oh no. No way in hell am I in the most remote sense like him, at all."

"Cut the Cap some slack. He's having a hard time adjusting." Clint said sternly.

"Okay I know, I know. I apologise." Tony held up both hands.

"Am I supposed to say thanks?"

"You're welcome." Tony smiled brightly.

Clint just shook his head in disbelief, the starting of a small smile found with the twitch of his lips.

"Instead, I'm here to tell you that I've developed new trick arrows and bows for you with the pinnacle of the world's technology." Tony explained animatedly.

He stared at the side of Clint's face in anticipation, waiting for a reaction.

"Which is my technology by the way." The prideful man continued.

"Umm wow?"

"Yeah 'wow'. When am I anything but 'wow'? You can drop by Bruce's level to check them out, give them a go or whatever. I left them with him."

And he was quick to remind Clint with a tinge of teasing "Just don't try them out in the tower. It can get pretty explosive. Go far, far away please. I'd very much like to have a standing Stark Tower to come back to."

"Thanks man. I'm not gonna say 'I love you' though, if that's what you're waiting for." Clint teased back.

"It's alright, Cupid. Santa doesn't expect anything back." Tony said glibly as he stood up.

"You're not that old or fat, or jolly. Generous maybe. Oh and I have a new nickname…wonderful."

"I know." Tony flicked a wrist at Clint in mock abashment.

"I get the sentiment. Really I do." Clint said in all seriousness.

Tony just gave him a firm grab on the shoulder. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Clint cracked a knowing smile of gratitude.

"Oh and hey." Clint called out, stopping Tony from leaving.

"Yeah?"

"I know you cared for Coulson too."

"What?" Tony's face fell just a little.

"You may seem indifferent. But I know Coulson meant at least something to you. Hell he meant something to everyone."

When all he got in return was silence, Clint turned his head back. Spotting Tony standing a short distance away, Clint gave him a smile.

"I'm sure wherever Coulson is now, he would have been grateful for having met your genius-playboy-billionaire-philanthropist self." Clint continued, remembering what he heard from the security footage.

Tony cleared his throat.

"You think so?" His usual playful voice was now thick with emotion.

"Yes I do. Hey don't go all emotional on me now dude."

"Thanks Clint."

Clint turned back to face the never-ending sky. "I think I prefer Cupid. And I have no idea what you're talking about either."

He heard Tony laugh under his breath, footsteps sounding further and further away.

"Just wanted you to know that none of us even entertained the slightest thought of blaming you for anything." Tony said his last words for the night before disappearing indoors.

"I blame myself." Clint whispered for his ears only as he looked intently at the changing traffic lights.

When he was sure Tony was gone, he laid down onto his back. The guilt was starting to surge through every cell in his body all over again. They had to stop being so nice, because he didn't deserve any of it.

But it didn't hurt to help the others out. If he could make them feel better about themselves, why not? One person with serious demons was enough. Him having problems with self-doubt and self-worth didn't mean the others had to have it too. Helping them out the best way he could was the least he could do.

With that thought, he pulled out his cell phone from his pocket and typed in a quick message or two with his nimble fingers. Pressing 'send', he put his cell phone back where it belonged and gave himself a mental pat on the back.

Meanwhile as Tony entered his bedroom, he was musing aloud to himself.

"And you call yourself a genius, Tony Stark? You should have known that the whole 'I'm not giving you the talk, so you're gonna feel obligated to talk to me in return' plan was gonna backfire. Now you have nothing awesome to report." He rambled to himself.

Just then, the phone gadget he had developed lit up as a new message came in. Using his fingertips to maneuver about the phone, his eyes began to scan the words of the message.

_You are, and always will be, your Daddy's best creation._

Tony's chest clenched at the familiar words. Of course he remembered them. But it was nice to be reminded once in a while. The back of his eyes were threatening to sting with unshed tears, but a second message came in.

_As to how I know that, like I said. You're the genius, figure it out Thomas Edison._

Tony chuckled silently. Legolas, Cupid, Clint…whatever names he gave the guy, was really starting to grow on him.

* * *

"Doctor Banner, you here?" Clint called out into the scientific looking place, about a week after Tony had found him on the roof.

"Yeah here. Nowhere else to be, or should be." The doctor was hunched over at a science bench.

The bench was littered with papers which had scribbling on them, along with messy charts and science instruments. Lined up in front was a row of different chemicals of different distinct colours.

"I'm here to pick my stuff up. Stark told me to get them from you."

"Walk straight. See the blue button on the wall? Press it." Bruce instructed, not looking up once.

The doctor was absorbed in his own experiment, rocking the whole mad scientist look with messed up hair and goggles upon his nose bridge. Clint snickered as he followed instructions, coming across a cluster of different buttons.

Finding the blue one promptly, he brought one calloused finger up and pressed it down. A compartment in turn, revealed itself on the adjacent wall and in it laid Clint's stuff.

"These look pretty awesome." Clint allowed himself a smile as he weighed the more intricate recurve bow and augmented arrows in his hands.

"Top grade." Bruce agreed from his spot.

"What are you up to Doc?" Clint was already making his way over to the bench, having placed the equipment aside.

"Just some experiments."

"It's okay if you don't wanna tell me. I probably know what you're doing."

"I know you do." The doctor gave a pause, before focusing back on his task.

"Oooh what's this?" Clint reached out his left hand for one of the glass beakers.

The playful hand obstructed Bruce's view, and as his gaze snaked down Clint's hand, his eyes caught onto a particular spot. Before Clint could touch anything, a gloved hand gripped his wrist.

"All you had to do was say no touching, jeez." Clint grumbled.

"What did you do to your hand?" The doctor pulled the hand nearer to his glasses, staring at the bruised skin.

"Punching bag mishap." Clint lied smoothly.

"You fractured your knuckles on a really hard punching bag." Bruce squinted unbelievingly at the remnants of recovered scars, his glasses drooping lower down his nose bridge.

"It happens. And they are not fractured." Clint argued defensively.

"Yes they are, and quite recently actually." Bruce finally released Clint's wrist from his grasp.

"Doesn't matter. Doesn't hurt." Clint shrugged.

"Really? Because it's still a little swollen."

"Fine. Maybe it hurts a little." The archer rolled his eyes.

"Need me to wrap your hand up?"

"That would be nice, yeah thanks."

Both men settled on the lush couch, Doctor Banner taking off his gloves and with white bandages in hand. Clint held up his injured hand towards the doctor. He knew that Bruce didn't exactly believe him. Who breaks their knuckles against a punching bag? But the good doctor didn't want to come on too hard so he didn't pry into it, and Clint didn't see the need to clarify further either.

Clint couldn't help but flinch just slightly as Bruce's fingers gently brushed the bandage across the slightly swelling skin, which was now starting to throb dully. He took his mind off it by scanning the area that was living quarters to one Doctor Bruce Banner, and he had to admit, it was a cool place.

His eyes scoured the corners of the surrounding area which had a technological and scientific edge to it. In one corner, he spotted an object standing stably, one he hadn't used in many many years.

Using his good hand, he pointed towards it and asked "Is that yours?"

**TBC**

* * *

**When the Avengers come out on DVD, I'm gonna buy it and watch the deleted scenes! I hope there's something in there that has something to do with my ship! HEHEH...*insert mr bean face* :) .dvd.**


	8. Chapter 8

_His eyes scoured the corners of the surrounding area which had a technological and scientific edge to it. In one corner, he spotted an object standing stably, one he hadn't used in many many years._

_Using his good hand, he pointed towards it and asked "Is that yours?"_

* * *

Bruce looked up for a second before replying "Nope. Was there when I got here. Must belong to Tony."

"Well I'd like to see Stark using that." Clint mocked.

"You never know."

"Can I have it? I mean, if you're not using it or anything."

"Sure take it. I don't know how to use it actually."

"Thanks Doc."

"Sure thing." Bryce replied slowly, still focusing on wrapping Clint's hand as gently as possible.

It was silent for a while before Clint piped up again. "Thanks for the apology too. I don't think I've thanked you yet."

Bruce tensed up visibly. Of course he knew what it was referring to. To the almost-murder of Natasha.

"Relax Doc. No one blames you." He clapped the doctor on the shoulder.

Bruce's shoulders sagged by half an inch thereafter.

"Yeah? Well, I was lucky I didn't cause more harm." Bruce continued on to laugh humourlessly.

"Harm came in handy though."

"Maybe."

"Definitely."

The doctor just mustered a small smile back.

"All...done." Bruce announced, finishing up on the bandage.

"Ahh, thanks Doc. Nice job." Clint replied, cringing as he flexed his sore hand.

"Anytime." The doctor replied as he kept his supplies.

Clint strode towards the object he was eyeing previously. He picked it up easily and waved it slightly in the doctor's direction. "Thanks for the guitar."

"It's not mine." Bruce reminded.

"Whatever." Clint brushed off, stealing a glance at his watch.

"Oh oh hey Doc, wanna listen to the radio?" Clint continued to ask, already starting towards the state-of-the-art stereo set.

"Uh I think-"

"Radio sounds like a great idea." Clint started turning the dials.

"Well I wou-"

"This looks like a good station."

"You-"

"Listen to the radio. Thanks for everything Doc. I'm out." Clint gave Bruce no chance to speak, leaving with his new found guitar and archery equipment as he gave the doctor a two finger salute.

Bruce stared at the vacated spot where Clint was earlier, a frown of confusion upon his forehead until he heard his name on the radio.

"This next song goes out to Bruce. Your friend Clinton has a message for you. It says that he trusts you, the team trusts you, and they couldn't have done it without you. You're important. Well wherever you are Bruce, I think you have a really good friend right there. Here's Adam Lambert, taking it away with his song 'Aftermath'." The radio DJ commented.

Doctor Bruce Banner had his jaw hanging just a little. His ears pricked as the song started playing, listening closely to the lyrics.

_Have you lost your way?_

_Livin' in the shadows of the messes that you made_

_And so it goes_

_Everything inside your circle starts to overflow_

Yup. Bruce felt like he'd lost direction in his life, and never really did regain it back. He messed up big time, sure. And he had to live in the remains of them messes. Sometimes- most of the time, it was too much for his plate.

_Take a step before you leap_

_Into the colours that you seek_

_You'll get back what you gave away_

_So don't look back on yesterday_

He gave away normal. Unwillingly. When the Hulk came to exist, normal was simply not up for grabs anymore. Normal, was a long time ago. To be honest, he had never fathomed he'd get back any decent normalcy in his life, much less that old normalcy he used to have. He never did get that back actually.

Because now, he had found a new normal…a better normal perhaps. Yes, he didn't expect it in his wildest of dreams but he got normal back.

_Wanna scream out, no more hiding_

_Don't be afraid of what's inside_

_Gonna tell ya, you'll be alright_

_In the aftermath_

_Anytime anybody pulls you down_

_Anytime anybody says you're not allowed_

_Just remember, you're not alone_

_In the aftermath_

The song made sense. Finding a new dysfunctional family in the Avengers, Bruce knew he didn't need to face life alone anymore. Smiling, he dedicated a 'thank you' to Clint in his head.

But his smile faltered as he realised something.

"Dammit, I was supposed to talk to him." He groaned into his hands.

* * *

Bruce and Steve were walking side by side, making their way to Tony's office as planned.

"How did yours go, Doctor?" Steve inquired as they took wide strides.

"Fine, fine. And you?"

"Just dandy."

Alas they entered Tony's office. The lights were dimmed and the blinds were pulled for all windows except one. The cushioned armchair at Tony's work table had its back facing towards them.

It slowly turned, revealing a waiting figure.

"I have been waiting for you." The low accented voice said, arms resting comfortably by the sides.

The two men standing stared at the seated being for a moment.

"You sound weird Stark." Steve stated blandly.

"Oh what do you know?" Tony argued, giving up his act as his voice went back to normal.

"Not much."

"That classic scene was thoroughly lost on you."

"Apparently."

"Well gentlemen, take a seat. I don't bite obviously."

As the two slowly took the seats, Tony continued in his own musings.

"Well maybe I do bite. Occasionally. And Pepper would know very we-"

"Okay I get it. Stop. Some things you gotta keep it to yourself Stark." Steve reacted by plugging his ears.

Tony smirked at the Captain's unease, but got the ball finally rolling for the day's discussion.

"Okay guys, what do you have? Capsicle, go."

"I have nothing." Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You said it went 'dandy'." Bruce broke his silent streak since he entered the office.

"It did." Steve didn't want to reveal how Clint turned the whole talk onto him.

"What do you mean nothing? You're the Captain. There is no 'nothing' in your vocabulary." Tony interrupted.

"Right. Well, it didn't go as expected. He shut me out."

"Did you even try un-shutting him?"

"I couldn't." Steve's hand drifted to his pocket where the folded pieces of paper still stayed, close to him.

"Doctor Banner?"

"I'm afraid I have nothing too." Bruce peered at Tony shyly.

"And you said yours went fine." Steve raised his eyebrows.

"My 'fine' and your 'fine' are very different then. He took the guitar by the way, if that's counted as anything."

"He plays?" Both Tony and Steve asked at the same time.

"I guess. No wait, I did find out that he fractured his hand. He's angry at something. I don't know what at, but he's really angry."

The billionaire blew air out of his mouth noisily, an awkward silence settling.

"Our plan sucks. Who made the plan!" Tony asked with exaggerated gesticulations.

"You?" Steve rolled his eyes.

"Oh yeah." Tony had an expression of realisation flicker across his face for a second.

"We don't hear you reporting anything. What did you get?" Bruce rebutted.

"Uh..yeah about that. I sorta...didn't get anything as well." He flashed them a puppy dog face.

"Failure isn't in Tony Stark's dictionary." Steve mocked.

"I didn't fail. I just didn't want to push him too hard." Tony came up with some weak excuse, his mind replaying the heartfelt words Clint had said...or text messaged.

"Same goes for us." Bruce clarified.

"Maybe he's fine. Everyone has their own coping mechanisms." Steve suggested thoughtfully.

"Wouldn't wanna take the risk, now would we gentlemen?" Tony said with a sudden mischievous smile.

"I do not like that smile." Steve frowned.

"What, this smile? Come on guys!" Tony stood up excitedly.

"Where are we going exactly? It's actually disturbing how fun you find this to be." Bruce maintained a neutral face.

"Who doesn't love a mystery?"

"Me." Steve raised his hand.

"Well I for one love mysteries. And this is our friend we're talking about. We're trying to help. So enough with the chit chat. To your level we go, Star-spangled man. Lead the way!"

Bruce hid a smirk behind his hand as Steve looked back at Tony with a weird expression. The billionaire really had a thing for theatrics.

**TBC**

* * *

**As always, thank you for making me a happy kid with your reviews :) Always welcomed!**

**I'm having exams the whole week now, so wish me luck! :) Farewell for now. **


	9. Chapter 9

_"Well I for one love mysteries. And this is our friend we're talking about. We're trying to help. So enough with the chit chat. To your level we go, Star-spangled man. Lead the way!"_

_Bruce hid a smirk behind his hand as Steve looked back at Tony with a weird expression. The billionaire really had a thing for theatrics._

* * *

The Black Widow was brooding on the red velvet couch. She had the whole level to herself. Nobody was around much anymore. Steve was always running off to god knows where having some guy time with Tony and Bruce, or so she thought.

Clint, well he only appeared when he was needed. She saw him mostly during mealtimes which the team had as a group, refusing to leave a single person out. Tony called it 'bonding time'. They discussed everything under the sun, sharing stories and jokes. They had their smiles and laughs, but she couldn't help but notice every forced smile Clint had to muster.

She made herself look away.

Other than that it was like the archer dropped off the face of the earth. She guessed he'd leave for somewhere open yet secluded, just like he always did when he needed to be alone. Apparently he needed to be alone almost all the time now. She figured he'd be angry at her.

Who wouldn't? He had the right to be.

Maybe he had been working out or training more vigorously at the gym. He did tend to tire himself out when he was angry. Maybe that was where he kept disappearing to. But that didn't make much sense either. She went to the gym almost every day, but not a glimpse of him at all. Maybe he really was actively avoiding her.

Clint would meet her eyes every now and then, just for a second. A few seconds more on some days. His face was now always impassive, never letting any emotion show before her. He'd hold the gaze for just a while, and was always the one to look away first.

Maybe he'd smile or snap at the others when she wasn't around. She didn't know.

Did she _want _to know? She kept telling herself she didn't. But she still cared, and that was precisely the problem.

There she went. She was caring, _again._ It was always easier to pretend not to care, than to admit to herself that it was killing her as much. Natasha willed herself to think of anything other than her partner. She needed a distraction. And coincidentally, one came just in time.

From where she was lounging, she could hear three voices coming around from the opening elevator doors.

_"No! You're invading his privacy."_

Natasha could tell who it was. Military man with a military walk and the military talk. The Captain.

_"I agree. I don't think this is a good idea." _

Ah, this was an easy one. The shy voice undeniably belonged to Bruce.

_"I say, this is my tower. And I'm simply checking on one of my rooms."_

Stark. Clearly it was Stark. That playful arrogance in his voice couldn't be mistaken anywhere.

_"Can we think about this for just a second?"_ Steve's request came out exasperated.

There was a short moment of silence, as the footsteps came to halt right on the other side of the main door.

_"Done. I thought about it for one second and we're still gonna do it."_ Tony declared.

_"Um, there's still something we haven't considered. Don't you think Natasha is going to..."_Bruce trailed off as he opened to the door.

"And said person is here." Natasha drew the three out from their not-so-private conversation.

"Oh uhh, hi Natasha." Steve waved awkwardly.

"We were- we were just umm..." Bruce spluttered nervously.

"She definitely heard us." Tony stated.

"What were you talking about?" Natasha questioned lightly, not wanting it to sound like a threat.

"We just wanted to check out Barton's room. He seemed off recently, so we wanted to see if we could find any clues. In his room. Technically it's mine." Tony explained straightforwardly.

"Just so you know, I didn't agree to that." Bruce raised a finger as he spoke.

Natasha was silent, though thoughts were running through her head. Even the guys felt like something was off with Clint. Maybe she should have mentioned that it was because of something that she did.

"You wanna join us?" Tony blinked enthusiastically.

"There is no _us_!" Steve threw up his hands.

"No." Natasha butted in firmly.

She was after all, trying to avoid delving into Clint's personal affairs.

"Why not? He's your partner too."

"I think Clint's angry with you, Natasha." Steve suddenly concluded out loud, saying what was on their minds for quite some time.

"Uhh very angry, if I might add." Bruce piped up in support.

"What's it to you? It's none of your businesses." Natasha glared all men in her presence.

"It is very much our businesses." Bruce said steadily for once.

"He's our friend, whether he accepts or knows it or not." Steve added on.

"He's making a home out of my roof." Tony's sense of humour went unappreciated as he continued.

"Not that I'm not willing to share-"

"So that's where he keeps going." Natasha interrupted.

And to think she told herself she didn't care. The biggest lie she ever told.

"Yes so if you'll excuse us, we have a room to invade- I mean check." Tony announced as he headed for Clint's room, the other two men following closely.

Natasha just looked on from where she was sitting. Since when did the three guys take it upon themselves to make sure Clint was personally fine?

Oh right, since she stopped.

"Captain, would you like to do the honours?" Tony gestured to the doorknob.

"I wouldn't consider this to be an honour." Steve muttered under his breath.

Bruce just scoffed.

"Okay fine. Fine! Since you two are so against this, we'll do this some other way." Tony huffed, stalking towards the couch upon which Natasha was sitting on.

"And pray tell what way would that be Stark?" Steve came to sit down beside Tony on the couch.

Tony was on one end of the couch, while Natasha on the other. Having sat down beside the cocky billionaire, Steve left the space between him and the female assassin for Bruce to fill. As the couch was fully taken up, all eyes went to Tony who broke into a Cheshire grin.

"I don't like this grin more than I didn't like that smile just now." Steve sighed as he laid back further into the couch.

**TBC**

* * *

**YES I survived my exams :') No wait...RESULTS D:**

**Anyways, is it me or has fanfiction changed since I last came on...**


	10. Chapter 10

_"I don't like this grin more than I didn't like that smile just now." Steve sighed as he laid back further into the couch._

* * *

"JARVIS, bring up the rooftop surveillance onto the television screen would you?" Tony ordered.

"Right away sir. Although I do not agree with this method of-" The robotic voice answered instantly.

"Come on JARVIS, you're killing me here." Tony cut the A.I off.

"What's the difference between barging into his room and this spying thing you have going on?" Bruce frowned, deepening the lines on forehead.

"You did protest against barging into his room. What more do you want from me? It's not like I even look at the footage...much. Most of the time he'd just be sitting or lying there." Tony shrugged.

"When did you install this piece of contraption?" Steve got curious.

"Since JARVIS told me he went up there, to be honest."

"How do you even get up _there_?"

"That's for me and Arrow Boy to know and for you to find out…if you're lucky enough."

Just then, clear visual and audio live footage came up on the screen.

"You know, to install a spy cam and not have Clint notice it...that's something." Natasha had to admit, that was some feat.

"I think he's just not bothering to pay attention. He's troubled." Bruce assumed.

And he assumed right.

"Wait, was that a compliment I heard Romanoff? Never thought I'd live to see the day." Tony wiped off a fake tear from his eyes playfully.

That earned a full-on intense stare from the Black Widow.

"Uh, watch the... Umm watch the...the-" Tony pointed repetitively towards the television screen, unable to form words under the eyes of the female assassin.

"The screen?" Steve offered with a suppressed smile.

"Yeah that. Okay." Tony turned his head away swiftly.

* * *

At the exact same moment, upon the roof of Stark Tower, a man sat along the edge as per usual with his legs dangling dangerously, just the way he liked it. He came up here almost every day now.

Clint had an extra companion today. His hand gently landed upon what laid beside him. Under his fingers, he felt the vague familiarity of stiff nylon strings. He used to play the guitar, once upon a lifetime ago.

He lifted the guitar by the neck, bringing it to rest on one thigh. As he pressed the pertinent chords, he started strumming expertly like how he handled his bow and arrows, singing a song he had heard several times on the radio one day that stuck with him ever since. He wasn't one for modern day songs, but this one made sense right about now.

_"You're not the type, type of girl to remain with the guy, with the guy too shy too afraid to say he'll give his heart to you forever."_

Well, it was sorta similar to Natasha. She was a hell of a girl, never was one for shyness. He would know. He had been her partner for years. Straightforward, awfully straightforward and it hurt. He faked his smiles when it hurt, because then he wouldn't have to explain why he was sad.

_"I'm not the boy that will fall to his knees, with his hands clasped tight begging begging you please, to stay with him for worse or for better."  
_

And this was him. Exactly like him. She wanted to leave? Sure, leave. But he'd never forget her. He remembered everyone who left.

Besides, it wasn't like he felt that he deserved her sticking by him anyways. If begging would have done the trick, he'd probably have done it. But the fact stood, that he felt unworthy.

_"But I'm staring at you now, there's no one else around, I'm thinking you're the girl for me."  
_

Clint paused.

He replayed in his mind, how he met Natasha's gaze every now and then. Sometimes he held it just a bit longer. He took the time to peer into the depth of her eyes which had ceased to reveal anything to him anymore, wanting to convince his insecure heart that she had meant what she said.

The non-existent answer was always the same. She meant it. He couldn't stand to look into her eyes any longer, and so he always broke the gaze first.

She looked at him like nothing happened, bravely meeting and out-staring him in every gaze they entertained. In those moments though, Clint saw nobody else but her. Really, she was the only woman in his life. The only one in a long, long time.

He needed no other. He just needed and wanted his friend. Friend. Best friend. Partner. Perhaps something more. He didn't know what to define them as. The lines were blur.

He let out a sigh.

_"I'm just saying it's fine by me, if you never leave, we could lay like this forever it's fine by me."_

He thought about it a thousand and one times before. Just to forget the world, to feel carefree like he did before. And when was that? It was impossible to remember. Was there even a time? No assassin job, no getting hurt. Just to exist peacefully in a place where he felt he belonged, with his partner maybe.

A normal life. Wow, that would be nice. But hell, they weren't normal people.

No objections there though. He'd welcome the thought of having his partner in his life all the time, anytime. He'd like that very much, just laying there right beside her. He could only imagine. She was the closest thing to family he ever had. And she was enough. With her, he always felt less alone in the world.

But with the Avengers team, he found new extended hands of friendship from the men who tried to be there for him. He appreciated it really, but he wished that they'd stop being so nice. He wanted to push them away. He didn't deserve them. If he didn't deserve Natasha, he sure as hell didn't deserve them.

But when it all came down to it though, they were simply...not her. It was just different somehow. They just didn't have the same effect on him as Natasha did.

Besides, they had their own issues. That much was obvious. He'd only be a burden. And so he hid away when he could, hoping that they'd get the hint to leave him alone.

Along with his thoughts, he never stopped strumming despite the aching in his knuckles. The white bandage had long been disposed of, leaving no indication of his previous injury since the swelling had subsided.

He didn't try stopping to heal first, he didn't want to. Because pain was good. It was the only thing that told him that he was alive. He owed himself at least that.

An adage did say: If you feel no pain, you're dead.

**TBC**

* * *

**Just so you know, that song is Fine By Me sung by Andy Grammer. I LOVE IT.**

**HI THERE. If you're reading this, thanks for reading whatever that is above the line :P**

**And also, thank you as well, for those who reviewed it. It's really nice of you :) Appreciate it.**


	11. Chapter 11

_He didn't try stopping to heal first, that much was obvious. Because pain was good. It was the only thing that told him that he was alive. He owed himself at least that._

_An adage did say: If you feel no pain, you're dead._

* * *

Sitting on the couch, the four Avengers were silent for once. All of them had their jaws hanging, but Natasha was the first to recover.

"Guys, close your mouths." She ordered, despite still being genuinely taken aback.

"Are you seeing this?" Steve asked incredulously, eyes never leaving the screen.

"Screw seeing. Are you hearing this?" Tony exclaimed.

For one who had seen all kinds of wonders in the world, Tony Stark was not expecting that.

"Barton has a voice of a god." Bruce supplied, slack-jawed.

"Speaking of gods, I wonder what Thor would say about this." Tony piped up again, concentration still on vocally-talented Clint.

"He'd agree. Oh man, he'd agree." Steve shook his head in awe.

"Did you know of his raspy magic Romanoff?" Tony poked his head out from his spot.

Natasha frowned. She never knew Clint could sing. Or play the guitar. Maybe she didn't know him as well as she thought she did. "No, I didn't."

"He looks pretty okay...right guys?" Bruce inquired, bringing the men back to the task at hand.

"I think he has found some solace in the instrument. He...looks like he's thinking." Steve provided hesitantly.

"I think he just needs time. Longer than a normal person maybe. Obviously he has been through a lot. But hey, we're all a bunch of weirdos." Tony grinned from ear to ear.

A family of weirdos. Had an affectionate touch to it. He liked it.

"Why am I even in this conversation?" Natasha mumbled, getting up to leave for the gym.

She didn't want to listen to anything else. It wasn't helping her 'no attachment to Clint' scheme at all.

"Don't worry, we'll keep an eye on your partner for you." Tony winked at her with a cheeky smirk.

"He's capable of taking care of himself." She shot daggers at the billionaire with her eyes before slamming the door on her way out.

"Not so sure about that." Bruce said inaudibly to himself.

"Okay guys, mission aborted. We'll just see how Clint goes here on out. Pleasure working with the two of you." Tony flashed his pearly whites.

"Stop talking. I like this song Clint is singing now. What is this song?" Steve squinted at the screen like it would help things.

"Fine By Me, by Andy Grammer. Met him before at some performance in a zoo, nice guy. Tell you what, I'll give you an iPod. You can ask JARVIS to put songs in it, because I know you obviously don't know how."

"What's an iPod?" Steve's face was scrunched up in confusion.

"You know, an electronic product from Apple?"

"You can make electronics out of fruit now?" Steve was getting more confused by the second.

"It's this metal box thingy that allows you to listen to musi- You have to stop hiding in the tower, seriously. Come on, I'll show you the wonders of the 21st century." Tony tried his best to sling his arm over the Captain's shoulders.

"Where are we going?" Steve was allowing himself to be dragged along by the shorter man.

"An adventure into the city. Let's go."

"Doctor Banner?"

Bruce looked in their direction, eyes shifting away from the television screen. "Oh, I'm gonna head back to continue with my experiments."

"Okay then, it's just you and me Stevie." Tony patted one side of the larger man's broad shoulders.

"It's Steve."

"Fine, Steve. Steve, Stevie, Captain, Capsicle. No difference."

The voices of both men became more distant as they head out, leaving Bruce with the melodious voice of Clint in the background.

"JARVIS, could you take the footage off the screen please?" Bruce asked politely, not wanting to infringe on Clint's privacy anymore.

"I certainly agree sir." The robotic voice came about once more.

And the television screen went black.

* * *

A full moon cycle had marked the beginning of yet another month spent in the tower the Avengers team had come to identify as their domicile. No missions that were of exponential importance had rolled by yet, and the team felt like they were having a long well-deserved break.

Steve had been increasingly much more acquainted with modern day pop culture references, and he prided himself in finally knowing how to use them. The expanse of the technology in the 21st century had yet to stop surprising him though, as he found himself discovering newer things every single day.

He had Tony Stark to thank for all that, for after their 'mission' on Clint had been halted, the genius had brought him out every single day to give him an introduction to a life in today's world. The playboy taught him to make normal talk with people around him, as well as chatting up some ladies. Tony gave up the idea of being Steve's wingman though after seeing the guy so rigid with discomfort. He'd let the poor guy set his own pace.

Steve was also not overly fond of music from the past decade. He found them very much irritating, meaningless and repetitive. And apparently, there was some tool called Auto-tune now. Except for a select few, Steve preferred listening to oldies and fell in love with one called American Pie. It went well with his alias. American Pie for Captain America.

Bruce had been experimenting ever since, trying to achieve breakthroughs in producing successful super soldier serum. Buried up to his elbows in his own charts and calculations, he had no time for anything outside the confines of Stark Tower.

The three men had gone on to invest in their own activities, but never failed to keep an eye out for Clint.

Clint for one genuinely seemed to be getting somewhat better. He was less angry, that part was obvious. And although it was a little strange, there were some days that he'd readily and generously flash small smiles at everyone, including Natasha. Real smiles.

He didn't seem to care whether they returned his smiles with some of their own, for he'd swing out of the door and head for wherever he wanted to go. He'd also make a couple of puns, and grace their presence with some chuckles. That was an improvement. On one or two instances, the others would hear him singing to himself. A little weird? Yeah, but they didn't pry.

That was on some days. Other days he'd initiate no communication completely. He'd take his food somewhere else away from the group of them and eat alone, or just sit on the couch with his hands hidden in the pockets of his hoodie. They didn't push.

The rest of the team would stare in concern when he went into such a funk. Ultimately they figure that he'd have to go through such a process to find himself again. They left him to it.

Natasha however, was getting more confused day after day. She had never in the span of their partnership seen Clint so inconsistent in his behaviour. She berated him in her mind countless times. Why did he keep doing things that made her worry?

Or rather in this case, he was doing nothing. Really, he'd just do nothing when he was in such a mood for the past month. He didn't even venture beyond the walls of their level. He'd even lock himself in his room.

She had eyes. She could clearly see some changes in him, like how his eyes looked increasingly dead tired every day in comparison to his active self. And for some reason, the muscles that showed off on his arms and shoulders were more pronounced and slightly larger than before.

She didn't stop her whole life because of him though, because that would totally defeat the purpose of trying not to make his business, her business. She went out, took walks, and trained at the gym. She'd hang out with the three other guys sometimes. But she couldn't stop her mind from occasionally going back to her partner.

There was a nagging feeling in her gut. There was something...out of place. But she couldn't place her finger on what exactly. The same went for the rest, but the world kept spinning and life went on no matter. Time didn't wait for any man.

These warning bells that rang through the group's subconscious proved to be somewhat reliable on one fated afternoon where things unfolded quite peculiarly.

It started when Tony called for the whole team except Clint to his office discreetly for some secret meeting...again.

**TBC**

* * *

**Greetings homosapiens, I come in peace from no-man's land called SCHOOL. Haha sorry was busy with homework and assignments! But here you go :)**


	12. Chapter 12

_These warning bells that rang through the group's subconscious proved to be somewhat reliable on one fated afternoon where things unfolded quite peculiarly._

_It started when Tony called for the whole team except Clint to his office discreetly for some secret meeting...again._

* * *

"This better be worth my time Stark." Natasha muttered with fierce eyes as she entered the large office with Bruce and Steve following behind her.

Those intimidating eyes never failed to send a shudder down the billionaire's back.

"Yeah Stark, I was busy." Steve complained.

"Busy playing the Wii that yours truly bought." Tony refuted with a self-indulgent smirk upon his lips.

"For your information, I was winning." The Captain mumbled in response.

"Why are we here Tony?" Bruce cleared his voice meekly.

"Ah yes, well I wasn't the one who wanted this meeting. Pepper wanted to talk to us. I have no idea what for either, but I could never say no to the missus." Tony smiled charmingly.

"You're just trying to earn brownie points." A feminine voice cane about as the better half of Tony Stark walked through those office doors.

"Mám." Steve nodded politely.

"We've been through this Steve. Just Pepper." She patted his shoulder as she brushed past him.

Tony shook his head. Some things would just never change.

"Okay guys. This is important. You probably don't know but I review security footage roughly every month. And I just looked through them yesterday and there's something I think you guys should see. It's about Clint." She explained.

"If it's about his voice, then we already know about it." Tony clarified.

Pepper frowned. "What about his voice?"

"Oh wait. I didn't tell you about the secret cam I installed on the roof yet. Sorry, must have slipped my mind." Tony apologised sheepishly.

"You're spying on other people?" She turned to glare at him, hands on her hips.

"He was troubled!" Tony raised both his hands in surrender.

His girlfriend gave him the evil eye before continuing "In that case, I have no problem telling you that I installed cameras surrounding the exterior of the tower too."

"I thought we agreed not to do that...for whatever reason I forgot."

"It came in handy actually. Take a look at this." Pepper brought up the footage onto the flat screen in the office.

The footage was dated about a month ago, showing the exterior of the tower. This particular footage was of Steve, Natasha and Clint's floor.

"You're spying on us... from the outside?" Natasha asked incredulously.

"Look at the window of Clint's room." Pepper pointed out.

As all eyes focused at the intended spot, they proceeded to see Clint's window opening as he leaned at least half his body out of the window.

"What is he doing?" Steve was utterly confused, and worried.

"Just watch." Pepper replied.

They all watched as Clint seemingly secured his position by the window using his legs as leverage, and turned to shoot an arrow upwards. Towards the top of the building. The augmented arrow shot out a zip line, leading Clint to some structure on the top of the tower which the contraption managed to wrap around.

Eyes widened as they saw him pull himself out of the window, walking up the side of the tallest tower in the city as he pulled himself along the rope. What was he doing, abseiling?

"He only does this at night, and this isn't the first time according to the footage." Pepper added as she brought up previous footages as well as newer ones.

Damn Clint. Always had a way to make jaws drop. He scaled up a few floors of Stark Tower about four times a week and apparently since the time JARVIS reported that he was up there.

"No wonder he looked more muscular." Natasha mused inaudibly to herself.

"I knew something was off. I think we all did." Bruce groaned.

"And I really thought he was getting better." Tony sounded serious for once.

"He was smiling more." Steve offered his penny's worth.

"Come to think of it, his smiles kinda seemed loopy to me. You know, like he was on drugs?" Tony said as he thought back.

"I know for a fact he wasn't on drugs. He didn't display the symptoms. Which leaves one most possible reason." Bruce analysed.

"Sleep deprivation. It makes you a little, as you call it, 'loopy' sometimes." Natasha finished.

She spoke from experience. Of course, why didn't she see this earlier? She had her fair share of sleep loss, she should have recognised the slightly dazed looks that her partner gave.

"We need to talk to him. Really talk this time. We'll all go." Steve took up a leading stance as he stood up.

"For once, I agree with Stevie." Tony nodded.

"I think he's in his room. Come on." Bruce concluded as the three of them started for the elevator, leaving the ever understanding Pepper behind while Natasha followed silently.

She wasn't keen on giving him a talk at all. The last talk she had with Clint wasn't exactly what one would deem constructive. She decided that she'd just quietly remain outside and hope the guys could work something out. She didn't want to see what she had caused Clint to become.

She seriously wanted to knock herself out, because she was caring again. She was worried, she was concerned. She cared. Some voice in her head told her that she cared because she was human. But yet she told herself she wasn't, that she hadn't been for a long time.

Upon reaching Clint's door, the Captain rapped on it slowly. "Clint, it's the Cap. Can I come in?"

No answer.

"Hey Robin Hood, mind if I crash the party again?" Tony took over, knocking on the door with a little more force.

Still nothing.

Bruce reached out for the door knob and turned it, letting the door open just a crack. The room was obviously not occupied.

"Clint's not inside." Bruce informed as he pushed the door open wider.

And the scene that greeted them came as a shock.

**TBC**

* * *

**Wazzap peeps! That being said...I can't wait to watch Bourne Legacy because Jeremy Renner is in it :3 HEHE**


	13. Chapter 13

_Bruce reached out for the door knob and turned it, letting the door open just a crack. The room was obviously not occupied._

_"Clint's not inside." Bruce informed as he pushed the door open wider._

_And the scene that greeted them came as a shock._

* * *

Natasha was about to head back to the common area, relieved that she didn't have to face Clint directly when a voice reached her ears.

"What happened in here?" Steve asked nobody in particular as he walked into the room, eyes scanning the room.

"It's like he sledge hammered the place." Tony said in shock at the destroyed interior.

He noticeably toned down on any jokes, for this wasn't a situation to poke fun at. Even he knew that.

Natasha was intrigued at what she heard and she turned promptly, walking back.

"What are you guys talki-" The question died on her lips as she took in the condition of Clint's room.

The walls in the room were littered with minute cracked lines scattered randomly here and there, as well as two or three actual holes the size of a man's fist that bloomed on the wall space above the computer.

There were forlorn and forgotten bloodstains that dirtied the white colour walls with their dried up brown. Those flaky prints mostly came in the form of four round dots spaced out slightly from one another, prints that were obviously made by a bleeding fist.

As Bruce checked over all the damage done, he was just slightly comforted that they were inflicted quite a long time ago. Maybe he was fine by now.

"He did all this quite some time ago." Bruce told the rest, waving his hand over to all the walls.

"I knew I shouldn't have gone with plaster walls." Tony mumbled to himself.

All this was unprecedented by Natasha. She never would have thought that he'd be so furious. She briefly wondered how the hell he managed to keep all that anger away from the rest of them.

"I'm really starting to believe he needs help. Bad." Steve cringed still at the sight of the thrashed room.

At this point, Tony was now already running checks on Clint's computer. His fingers flew across the different keys at record speed as unfamiliar coding came up on screen. After about half a minute, Tony finally made a sound.

"Oh dammit." He hid his face behind his hand as he muttered.

"What is it?" Bruce asked in concern.

"He views the footage I sent him every single day."

"The one from the Helicarrier?" Natasha inquired intently.

"You let him have the footage?" Bruce and Steve exclaimed together loudly.

"I know, I know. Jeez I'm sorry. He sounded like he needed it so bad."

Just then, a few 'dings' went off from the computer as Tony explained "I managed to work out what he does to the footage. And apparently...it's this. I have a video log on what he does to the footage."

The other three who were standing, came closer to the computer screen as the video started to play.

_"I owe him a debt." _The video log showed the scene where Natasha was telling that to Loki.

The Black Widow flinched when she heard those words. She rarely had this kind of a response to...anything, but it was irrefutable that she had just flinched.

And then the video log showed that the footage had been rewound to play the same short scene again.

_"I owe him a debt."_

And again.

_"I owe him a debt."_

And again.

_"I owe him a debt."_

It was the only thing that Clint watched.

_"I owe him a debt. I owe him a debt. I owe him a debt."  
_

The three guys turned to look at the female assassin slowly and awkwardly. Of course, they had no idea why Clint was so hooked on that short clip of the whole footage, but it sure as hell somehow involved Natasha.

"We should probably check on him." Bruce broke that momentary silence.

"Already on it." Tony stood up abruptly to exit the depressing room.

The rest followed him to the common area as he called out "JARVIS, is Agent Barton on the roof again?"

"Yes sir. You probably want the live video feed, am I right?" The robotic voice answered.

"Aww you know me so well JARVIS. Put it up on the television screen. Thank you." Tony teased the system.

"I do still object to this but, always at your service sir."

With that, the group got themselves some live feed. Similarly to how they were a month ago, the four Avengers settled themselves on the couch. But this time, all had rather grim expressions as they squirmed uncomfortably in anticipation.

Much more so for Natasha. This was all because of her. She was the cause for his violent outbursts...his unstable emotional capacity.

The video started off as Clint was halfway into a song, clad in a simple white V-neck shirt that didn't seem enough to keep him warm against the colder winds up on the roof as he sat on the edge like usual.

_"Open up your eyes, then you'll realise, here I stand with my everlasting lo-" _He sung happily, as his head bobbed dazedly to the rhythm he strummed the guitar to.

Natasha recognised that 'loopiness'. She had a bad feeling about the whole thing, the bad feeling she should have paid attention to this whole while.

"I know this song." Steve whispered as he nudged Tony with his elbow.

"Am I supposed to be proud?" Tony whispered back.

Steve glared back in annoyance and turned his focus back to the video feed, just in time to see Clint stop altogether suddenly.

**TBC**

* * *

**Did you hear that the Avengers 2 release date for now is 1 May 2015?! I can't wait! In the meantime, I look forward to all Marvel movies, especially Captain America 2 because Hawkeye and Black Widow are in it! My shipper heart shall explode :)**


	14. Chapter 14

_"I know this song." Steve whispered as he nudged Tony with his elbow._

_"Am I supposed to be proud?" Tony whispered back._

_Steve glared back in annoyance and turned his focus back to the video feed, just in time to see Clint stop altogether suddenly._

* * *

_"Open up your eyes, then you'll realise, here I stand with my everlasting lo-"_Clint sang, the feeling of laughter starting to bubble inside his chest.

He knew for a fact that he was severely sleep deprived. The longest he went with no sleep was maybe about ninety-two hours. Because here he was, singing sappy love songs and smiling lazily. That, was not normal. But it had been considered to be for quite some time now. It had to be.

Before he could continue further with his song, the back of his neck tingled as a voice struck up a conversation. _"Missed me?"_

Clint stilled abruptly. Turning his head to face the figure, he replied "Not much."

_"How long this time?"  
_

"A hundred and twenty-two hours so far. New record, hooray." He stated blandly.

_"Still climbing out the window since the last time I saw you?"  
_

"Yeah, so?" Clint rolled his eyes.

_"Why do you still do that?"  
_

"Nat's a light sleeper. If I use the door, she'd hear me. I don't wanna wake her up from the little sleep I know she gets. Besides, it's a great workout for the arms y'know ." He shrugged his shoulders tiredly.

_"You should really talk to somebody."  
_

"I talk to you."

_"You know, for a person who gives good advice I don't see how you're in this situation."  
_

"Haven't we been through this before? I know for a fact that I give good advice. Doesn't necessarily mean I follow them."

_"The guys seemed nice. They tried to help you."  
_

"They thought I had a problem."

_"Don't you?"  
_

"They have their own problems to handle. I tried to help, I wonder if it worked. And hell, the world has problems. Doesn't make mine any more important. And that's saying if I even had any." Clint ruffed out, getting a little edgy.

_"Why do you keep lying to yourself Clint?"  
_

"I am not lying, I'm just improving the truth!" Clint refuted angrily, guitar now lying at his side.

_"You know exactly what's wrong and you know you need help. My being here is proof enough that you do have a problem so tell me what it is!"  
_

"No. I don't have a problem." Clint produced the words in a low growl.

_"Say it."  
_

"I have nothing to say to you." He forced out as he clenched his jaw so hard.

_"You son of a bitch. At least have the balls to admit it to yourself."  
_

"I can't sleep!" Clint shouted suddenly in frustrated agony.

His neck was red with anger as his breathing became laboured.

"I can't sleep, for the love of god I can't sleep. I have nightmares. I kill every single person that mean something to me every time I close my eyes! Banner? Dead. Stark? Dead too. Steve? Also dead! Natasha? Dead! They all die because of me! Phil? Oh wait he really is dead!" He ended off with deadpan.

He was shouting and screaming towards the skyline of the city, his voice already getting hoarse as veins made their appearances along his neck. He was so angry. His heart smouldered in resentment at himself. All the pent up pressure, the emotions he pressed back in for the past month was finding their brutal way back up to the surface, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

He was losing more and more sleep as the month passed painstakingly slow in his opinion. He could go days without sleeping and nobody would notice, because that was when he went all smiley. No sleep for an extended period of time did that to people. In some way, it numbed everything. Everything seemed so...light, and surreal. Numb. It made him seem happy.

But then the time would come when his body was tired beyond compensation where he would literally collapse into bed, and that was the only time he got anything close to sleep. That however didn't last long either. The much needed sleep never failed to be plagued by horrific nightmares that seemed so real. So frightening that he'd refuse to close his eyes for more than ten seconds at one go. He'd rather lose sleep for another few days again.

The days right after some sleep from the fiery depths of hell, he segregated himself from the others, unwilling to entertain any form of human interaction. He grew quiet, detached and nobody dared approach him.

This excruciating cycle repeated itself, on and on for a whole month. It was so straining on him mentally and physically, that Clint really wondered bluntly why he hadn't just dropped dead yet.

He sat there panting, gulping mouthfuls of oxygen as he felt and heard the increased rate of his heartbeat reverberating in his ears. And then suddenly he burst out in laughter, the previous figure he saw already long gone, and long forgotten.

"I...don't deserve sleep. I don't deserve...friends. I don't...deserve anything!" He managed between unstoppable laughter.

He giggled. He chuckled. He laughed. He gagged. No, he wanted to stop laughing! It hurt. He laughed so hard till his ears turned crimson as blood rushed to his head, turning his face pink as well. He laughed till he had tears in his eyes. And then any hint of laughter died down unanticipatedly.

"I can't sleep." He said quietly to himself, his voice maybe an octave higher as his throat closed on him.

The amount of tears that gathered in his eyes before, now steadily increased.

"I...I can't- I can't sleep." The hands that held past bruises and scars came up to cover his face as he gave just one single strangled sob, tears of frustration finally escaping the shelter of his eyelids as they cascaded down the curvature of his tired face. And he just cried on silently.

He was so tired. He couldn't handle himself, nor could he endure it any longer. He was that desperate for decent sleep, and nobody could help him. Rough hands of his own began to pound against his own skull as the marksman made great effort to snap out of his moment of weakness. Raining clenched fists upon his head, he wished he could knock himself out good. Finally he stopped - a sign of resignation. Head bowed, face buried in shame and hands pressed against his temples so hard it might have bruised, Clint was the epitome of a nervous breakdown.

**TBC**

* * *

**I happened to have sleeping problems. That numb feeling? Totally true, can't really describe it but it's like your brain is wrapped with bubblewrap and there's definitely a headache there but it's like...a numb pain. HAHA that's so ironic xD**


	15. Chapter 15

_Raining clenched fists upon his head, he wished he could knock himself out good. Finally he stopped - a sign of resignation. Head bowed, face buried in shame and hands pressed against his temples so hard it might have bruised, Clint was the epitome of a nervous breakdown._

The four Avengers all knitted their brows, intrigued by the abrupt halt Clint made halfway through song. One could only imagine how Clint managed to hurl them into unsettlement as they watched him speak.

_"Not much."_

"Huh? 'Not much' what?" Tony made a face.

"That's not in the song." Steve informed.

"No shit, Sherlock." Tony followed sarcastically.

"I actually understand that reference." Steve narrowed his eyes.

_"A hundred and twenty-two hours. New record, hooray."_

"I catch no drift whatsoever." Bruce voiced out meekly.

"Well join the club." Tony reached over to pat him on the shoulder patronisingly.

_"Yeah, so?"_

"I have a really, really good question." Steve informed slowly, a slightly horrified expression spreading across his face.

"Natasha, are you seeing this?" Bruce had incredulity in his voice.

"Who the hell is Clint talking to?" Tony voiced out the major question on everybody's mind.

Clint was talking to air.

_"Nat is a light sleeper. If I used the door, she'd hear me. Our rooms are right opposite from each other. I don't wanna wake her up from the little sleep I know she gets."_

If Natasha wasn't paying attention previously, she sure as hell was paying full attention right now. Now she knew why he was getting more muscular as well. But her face fell so slightly, that an untrained eye would miss. After everything that she did, Clint was still...Clint. Forever the protective partner, forever the sweet guy.

Against all odds, her heart constricted tightly in affection.

"He climbs out of the window every time for you." Bruce said with apparent realisation in his tone.

Natasha hid her face behind her palm in guilt, as she closed her eyes for a few seconds. Why did Clint have to always be so selfless? At this rate, her debt to him would never be repaid. Because that was what it was all about, right? The frickin debt.

_"I talk to you."_

"That itself is what alarms me! Who is that 'you'?" Tony raised his voice at the television like Clint could hear him through the screen.

"He's having hallucinations. Must have happened before because he isn't confused. He knows exactly what's going on." Natasha provided.

How she hated herself for saying that, for being able to dissect her partner's actions as easily as she just did. But that just made her even more so frustrated for she didn't understand how she failed to see this coming a month ago. Was that how long he had been going through this…_alone_?

_"Haven't we been through this before? I know for a fact that I give good advice. Doesn't necessarily mean I follow them."_

"He sure does have knack in the way he gives advice." Steve nodded in agreement.

Beside him, Tony and Bruce silently concurred as well. They never once forgot how he helped them, the special way he did it.

_"They thought I had a problem."_

"You have a big, huge, gargantuan problem Clint. You're talking to air! Air!" Tony chided the television screen.

It was kinda ironic if you thought about it, because there Tony was talking to an inanimate object. No, that was not the point. Point was, Clint was talking to his own hallucinations for god's sake. That was slightly terrifying to witness.

_"They have their own problems to handle. I tried to help, I wonder if it worked. And hell, the world has problems. Doesn't make mine any more important. And that's saying if I even had any."_

"It worked." All three men claimed at once in unison.

Natasha leaned forward to give them curious eyes under the frown she was sporting. No wonder they had grown protective of Clint, now that she thought back.

But the three men had their sympathetic eyes practically glued to the screen.

_"I am not lying, I'm just improving the truth a little!"_

As four pairs of eyes witnessed the fast progression of Clint's agitation, it proved to be too much for Bruce as he up and left.

"I can't watch this anymore. I'm going up there to find him." The doctor muttered quickly and started to walk off, unable to quell the sense of discomfort.

_"No. I don't have a problem."_

"Bruce, you shouldn't go by yourself." Natasha warned.

She knew how deadly Clint could be in the slight delirious state he was in now. The last thing she wanted to see was Bruce hulking out in defense. Tony for one, would rather his tower remain in one piece, not pieces.

_"I have nothing to say to you."_

"Then come with me." Bruce beckoned uncomfortably.

_"I can't sleep!"_

Bruce ears perked up as he slowly made his way back, all eyes plastered to the screen again. There was an unnerving few seconds of silence.

_"I can't sleep, for the love of god I can't sleep. I have nightmares. I kill every single person that mean something to me every time I close my eyes! Banner? Dead. Stark? Dead too. Steve? Also dead! Natasha? Dead! They all die because of me! Phil? Oh wait he really is dead!"_

The air of steely control that Clint used to have had now disintegrated into nothingness. This was the angriest they had ever seen their team member. The despair in his voice...it was unmistakable. It hurt them to hear it.

They were taken aback that they played such pivotal roles in his nightmares, and they couldn't imagine the pain he went through to see the people he cared about die again and again in an unfortunate alternate reality that existed in his head when he slept.

_"I...don't deserve sleep. I don't deserve...friends. I don't...deserve anything!"_

As the archer dissolved into painful self-induced laughter, Steve let his head fall into his hands. He was their team leader, he was Clint's friend. How did he manage to let it get this far? This was honestly scaring him, and he was sure that every single soul present was feeling the exact same way. Lifting his head up, the team leader had purpose burning in his eyes.

"This is...crazy. I had no idea that he'd- He needs help, and I'm going." He stood up, ready to go until a broken voice stopped him.

_"I can't sleep."_

Natasha didn't think she had ever seen Clint come so close to crying before, and it physically hurt to hear his constricted voice.

_"I...I can't- I can't sleep."_

"I honestly think I'm gonna cry." Tony admitted hoarsely, eyes glistening slightly as he looked at the rest.

Bruce's face had fallen into one of empathetic pain. Steve's eyes, much like his own, were shimmering just a little with unshed tears. Natasha, who forever had a poker face on, had her lips downturned in a similar fashion as to how someone looked when they were trying to prevent themselves from tearing. Clearly all of them shared the same pain. They could relate.

That itself spoke volumes of how deeply disturbing it was to watch their fellow Avenger crumble within that last hidden plea for help, Steve snapped into captain mode.

"Bruce, I'll leave you to come up with a way to help him sleep. Be it counting sheep or something. Anything." He said as he pointed to Bruce.

The doctor nodded in confirmation as he walked away, mind solely on his given task.

"Stark and Natasha, with me. Natasha, you've always been the closest to Clint. Now I need you to step up to the plate, and help your partner. Can you do that?" He spewed away with commands, finishing up with a firm look into her eyes.

Natasha just nodded mutely.

"Hey what about me?" Tony looked just mildly offended.

"You lead the way Stark. I have umm…yet to find a way up to the roof."

"Aye aye, Captain." Tony gave a mock salute, starting to see why Steve was team leader in the first place and respecting him for it.

With a childish smirk on Tony's lips, they headed for the top of Stark tower together, leaving behind the sound of occasional sniffles that came from the video feed.

JARVIS turned it off.


	16. Chapter 16

_"Hey what about me?" Tony looked just mildly offended._

_"You lead the way Stark. I have umm…yet to find a way up to the roof."_

_"Aye aye, Captain." Tony gave a mock salute, starting to see why Steve was team leader in the first place and respecting him for it._

_With a childish smirk on Tony's lips, they headed for the top of Stark tower together, leaving behind the sound of occasional sniffles that came from the video feed._

_JARVIS turned it off._

* * *

The wind was whistling past their ears when they arrived at the roof.

"So this is how you get up here. And to think I've been trying for a month." Steve mumbled barely audibly in the gust of wind.

They approached their intended target slowly, trying not to startle him. They could only see the expanse of his back, his face hidden away from an audience. The figure was still, sitting so tensely along the edge of the high-rise building.

Clint had stiffened when he heard footsteps behind him. Several sets of footsteps in fact. He had no clue why and who would be up here, but gave himself no reason to respond, hoping that whoever they were, they'd go away.

"Clint?" The Captain called out.

Clint groaned inwardly. And he thought this place was supposed to be secret. What the hell was Steve doing here, and why did he have people with him? If it was a mission, he would have already been notified directly.

"Clint." This time Steve raised his voice and said it more firmly.

Clint was almost compelled to react to the assertive tone of the guy. He was also starting to wonder if Tony sold his hiding place out.

"Agent Barton." A woman's voice called out fiercely.

Now this he couldn't ignore.

His hands gripped the edge abruptly, with enough force to startle the people behind him instead. True enough, Steve almost thought that the archer would do something stupid while Tony lurched forward slightly. Natasha seemed unfazed, but she swore her heart just skipped a beat.

Clint pushed himself up, now standing so close to a few hundred meter's fall. He took one safe step, two steps back. Slowly, he turned around. The others held their breath, anticipating an emotional facedown.

"What can I do you for?" Clint asked with a hint of a polite smile.

Now they were puzzled. He looked...normal, nothing like what they had seen from the live feed just now. His eyes were dry, his face was considerably impassive by now and there were no signs of him breaking down. He was as collected as can be. Clint could see them frowning like his head was screwed on wrong or something, and he approached them wondering what was wrong.

"Is something wrong? Why do all of you look so..." He trailed off as he gestured to his face.

The three supposed intruders to his place of solace looked at one another with no clue of what to do.

"What? Hey I'm standing right here." Clint snapped his fingers, capturing their attention yet again.

This time Tony bravely jumped straight to the point.

"I saw- We saw you umm...you were upset." He took a subconscious step back, just in case.

"You saw me?" Clint's eyes flew borderline murderously towards the genius.

" Talking to a non-existent person." Steve took over, inserting some stability into his voice, noticing the others' tact to avoid the issue of him actually crying.

"How wou- You spied on me?" His eyes narrowed intimidatingly at the team leader whom he felt was the next closest thing to a kin besides Natasha.

"I installed the spy cam. Not him." Tony admitted, taking responsibility and earning himself a glance of slight admiration from the Captain himself.

"Why would you do that?" Clint forced out harshly.

"We just wanted to make sure you were okay." Steve coaxed gently.

"And you, why are you even _here_?" His slightly agitated gaze fell onto his partner.

Well, shit went to hell early. Facades had finally faced their demise as of ten seconds ago.

Hurt and betrayal was etched across his countenance as his face fell in disappointment. The fact that he wasn't one to show his emotions so outwardly just told Natasha that this thing was thoroughly taking its toll on him. She had her hands in her pockets uncomfortably, unable to make a sound.

"You were scaring us. Dude you were shouting, then you were laughing and then suddenly bam! You were cr-" Tony cut himself off abruptly, eyes widening as he realized what he'd nearly blurted while partially hidden behind the enhanced body of Steve.

Clint clenched his fists, hands now shaking as he felt his power of control slipping away. If not for his consistently clipped nails, it would have dug into his skin at the amount of pressure his fingers put against the inside of his palms.

He was breathing hard. The others seemed to think that he was trying to contain his anger, when in fact he was trying to push down the feeling of impending tears. His dark eyes stared insolently back at them, as he tried to keep up a believable facade.

"Do something." Tony nudged Natasha's elbow lightly.

She was rooted to the spot as her eyes for once flitted between Tony and Steve pleadingly. For once, she seemed so unsure of what to do. What did they expect from an assassin? But to the others she and Clint weren't just two assassins. They were partners and there was a unique bond between them that couldn't be put down in words.

Clint felt his nose running slightly while he kept a tense stance in front of his audience, and hastily used the sleeve of his hoodie to brush his nose as he sniffed just once. His hands were shaking so he thrust them into the pockets of in front of his navel to hide them away from probing eyes.

"Go like...hug him." Tony whispered to Natasha, cocking his head towards the troubled archer.

The female assassin glowered at the suggestion.

"Black Widow d-don't do hugs. Right." Tony swallowed nervously.

"Come on Clint, we didn't mean to spy on you." Steve took a step forward, getting that much nearer to the archer who was fraying at the ends of his nerves.

The world-class marksman laid the same hurt and honestly slightly deranged eyes upon the friend who approached him. He shook his head in a single small jerk as he now crossed his hands over his chest tightly, taking a defensive step back to create some sort of distance and barrier between him and the others who stood awkwardly before him.

**TBC**

* * *

**Hehe I'm finally back, and I have survived the promo exams! So now, I'm praying to like every god I know, praying that I actually PASS the papers haha oh well. Here's to hoping that some Clintasha romance will happen in Captain America 2 :)**


	17. Chapter 17

_The world-class marksman laid the same hurt and honestly slightly deranged eyes upon the friend who approached him. He shook his head in a single small jerk as he now crossed his hands over his chest tightly, taking a defensive step back to create some sort of distance and barrier between him and the others who stood awkwardly before him._

* * *

As he did, his breath just caught momentarily. He looked down at his feet. He didn't want to look at them. Even in his haze he didn't fail to notice distinctly that his own partner hadn't even said a word. What part of _that _was supposed to make him feel better?

The Captain stopped moving when his actions triggered an adverse reaction and sighed.

Clint blinked profusely as he hid his eyes from the rest. He heard that sigh. Now the Captain found him hopeless too, great. Finally someone who agreed with himself. He could feel his eyes slowly becoming moist, but he clenched his jaw. He wanted it to stop.

"I'm sorry." Tony took a few seconds of courage to step forward.

"Don't tell me that." Clint bit out hoarsely.

"I'm sorry too." Steve tentatively took a step nearer again.

Clint looked up slowly, ears now red from trying so darn hard not to act like a damn baby in front of everyone. This wasn't him at all. He hadn't cried since his parents died. He told himself it was all because of the lack of sleep. Or for the fact that even the strongest man would break sometime. Or maybe it was because some god screwed with his goddamn brains.

"You're never alone Clint. You know that." Tony said gently, his eyes sparkling with compassion instead of his usual pride.

Clint closed his eyes tightly, his face clamming up in distress. Now he was really listening.

"I do know, so stop! I don't deserve it." Clint replied exasperatedly, a sour feeling running along his jaw to the accupoint below his ears.

"I heard what you said. It's not true. You deserve nothing less than me and Captain Spandex over here." Tony reasoned.

"Really? Then why did she gi-" Clint caught himself before he could say any further.

_Why did she give up on me_? He wanted to ask. It seemed like such a child-like question but right about now how he wished he was still a kid, when shit hadn't hit the ceiling yet.

Natasha's head snapped up to look at him. He was about to say something and she wanted to know what exactly. It was about her after all. But Clint refused to look her way.

"What was that?" Tony didn't catch what came out of Clint's mouth.

"It's...nothing."

Clint bit down on his lower lip in defiance. He bit down on it hard, his facial expression strained.

Natasha couldn't absorb the scene before her fully. Here she was looking at her ever strong partner, reduced to whatever he was now with guilt and desperation. She had never seen him like this, nor did she ever want to see him like this again. It pained her to see that she played a part in his mental degradation. And she hadn't done anything to help.

"Come on, let's go back down Clint." Steve encouraged, inching closer and closer.

She watched as Clint inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. And he walked away towards the edge he was sitting at earlier.

"Clint." Steve tried again.

"Clint, come on man." Tony beckoned.

"Clint, stop walking." Steve ordered more hurriedly as he followed behind quickly.

"Don't do anythi-" Tony gushed but put a fist in his mouth when Clint turned around abruptly to give them an emotionless stare.

The agent gritted his teeth as he bent down to reach for the forgotten guitar, brushing past all of them roughly thereafter.

"Just getting the frickin instrument. What did you think I was trying to do, jump off?" He muttered tactlessly as he walked indoors, trying to keep his voice stable while he avoided eye contact.

"I honestly thought he'd do something stupid." Steve shook his head.

"He scares me. Full of nasty surprises that guy." Tony faked a shudder.

"He's capable of anything when he's in a dark place." Natasha sighed with regret.

With that, the three head back hoping whatever Bruce concocted would be good enough to knock the marksman out for some time.

* * *

Clint practically stormed all the way back. His chest clenched in resentment at the way his friends took to spying on him. His forehead was scrunched into a deep frown as he breezed into the common area, fingers wound around the neck of the guitar tightly.

The first person his eyes caught was Bruce. He knew that he was probably as involved as the others and shot him a long glare. He then proceeded to the couch, seething as he waited for the others to return.

Actually deep down, he knew he wasn't really angry at them. He knew they did what they did because they cared, and that was immensely comforting, knowing that he wasn't exactly alone in his unlit world.

The shy clearing of a voice brought Clint's attention to the doctor before him. He eyed the doctor who had this look on his face as he approached the couch slowly.

"Have uhh...some water Clint. You look..y'know kinda flushed." Bruce offered a glass of water apologetically.

Clint figured that the doctor was trying to make up for infringing on his privacy, and so despite his displeasure he took the water and gulped it all down in two mouths in an upset rush. The least he could do was accept the water, for the poor doctor seemed so nervous.

Clint felt like he had no place to make Bruce feel any more worse. Didn't mean he had to accept the gesture graciously though. Shoving the glass back to Bruce, he leaned back against the back of the couch as he lost himself in his messy thoughts again.

He was embarrassed. He had shown them the vulnerable side of himself, although not knowingly. It was a side he barely showed since he was forced to mature quickly at a tender age. It was a side he didn't ever want to show. Not even Natasha had seen much of this side.

He was ashamed that he even had witnesses to his emotional struggles. That wasn't supposed to happen. He felt so ashamed, for his team members to know that he wasn't that infallible persona he had tried hard to keep up with. Big guys like him didn't cry at such meager things. That was what he kept telling himself, that he was getting upset over small issues.

The other Avengers would definitely beg to differ though. His issues were far from small. They were deep-seated, and no one knew how many skeletons the archer had in his closet.

Contrary to popular belief, asking for help was not easy. Clint knew to some extent, that he needed help. But he couldn't ask for help. _He didn't know how_. And now he found himself weirdly relieved that things had unraveled the way it did. Maybe they could make him feel better.

His perspectives were all warped and screwed up, and this was his subconscious' way of reaching out for the help he so badly needed. That was how desperate he was. As Clint got unusually caught up in his thoughts, he almost missed the pointed nod Bruce shot the rest when they made their reappearance. _Almost._

**TBC**

* * *

**It's been too long, apologies...**


	18. Chapter 18

_As Clint got unusually caught up in his thoughts, he almost missed the pointed nod Bruce shot the rest when they made their reappearance. Almost._

* * *

As Steve was about to proceed to talk to the doctor, Clint shot up from the couch and asked suspiciously "What was that for Banner?"

"Wh-What? What was what for?" The doctor tried to maintain a calm disposition.

"Stop confusing me with your words. Why did you give them a-" Clint growled slightly but stopped halfway when he felt...abnormal.

His vision pooled for a moment, the edges of his vision closing in. He blinked hard and shook his head, finding that his mind was now clouded. Soon, he felt his legs giving way beneath him as he collapsed back into the couch. Steve, Tony and Natasha rushed towards him worriedly.

Totally uncaring Natasha? Wasn't gonna happen anytime soon.

"Clint?" Steve tapped the archer's cheeks lightly.

Clint felt his body being shifted to suit the length of the couch, his legs being lifted up. He tried to move, but his whole being felt so tired suddenly.

"I have no…strength all of…a sudden." Clint said, unsettled as he found himself powerless.

"Banner?" Tony called out for the doctor who was making his way, confused as to the reasons for Clint's sudden loss of strength.

"Relax. I doped his water. He's gonna be knocked out for quite a while. This way he's gonna get some sleep." Bruce clarified as he came into Clint's blurry view.

"Well you could have told us sooner! I almost had an arc attack!" Tony rubbed his hand over his arc reactor calmingly.

Clint could barely make out the people around him anymore. He could vaguely make out Steve by his head, Tony right by the Captain's side and Natasha standing near his feet. Now Bruce was standing beside her. All their voices were muffled, but he could still make sense out of what they were saying. He caught on the word 'dope', and he could swear his heart rate started increasing.

"Did you...say 'doped'? You drugged...me?" Clint managed to slur out, voice coming out agitated.

"It's a safe dosage. It's gonna help you sleep for now Clint." Bruce said reassuringly.

"No...no! There was a re-reason...that I didn't take pills to...help me sleep!" Clint's half-open eyes flew around wildly.

He tried to will himself to get out of this drug-induced haze, doing his best to sit up. But he couldn't. He was literally useless. _How_ _much dope was he shot up with!_

"Okay calm down Clint." Steve put his hand on the marksman's chest, pushing him down softly.

"Y-you...don't understand!" Clint mumbled, biting into his words but it was clear enough for the rest to catch on.

It was getting harder to formulate words out of his mouth as the drugs travelled throughout his body, through his bloodstream. He was also getting increasingly anxious as he grabbed onto Steve's hand that stayed on his chest, trying his best to push it away.

"Clint, you're gonna hurt yourself. Let the meds work and-" Bruce tried to soothe but got cut off with an outburst.

By now, it was to hell with not showing his vulnerability.

"You're trapping me in hell!" Clint exclaimed, finally finding just the right amount of strength to force those words out.

Three hearts fell for the guy on the couch.

Clint was utterly exhausted. His eyes were burning with fatigue, his limbs were near flaccid and his head wasn't exactly working in his favour.

"Drugs...force me to...sleep. Makes...it harder for...me to wake...up. And it traps me in...in the- in the...nightmares." Clint was slurring more now, and taking more pauses in between words.

Even so, Clint was still trying to sit up pathetically. He had even taken to pulling himself up with the Steve's hand which he had in his grasp previously. That proved futile for his energy felt like it was being drained, and being drained fast.

"Exactly how much did you drug him with?" Steve frowned as he inquired.

"Enough to have him knocked out by now. He must be really against it to be still conscious." Bruce looked on intently.

"It's gonna be okay. We'll be here while you sleep." Tony rested his own hand on the archer's chest this time, taking over the job of getting him to lie back down.

"It's...no use." Clint tried desperately to make them see his point.

In this entire blur, he missed the pained look on Natasha's face as she stood there like a helpless by-stander. Natasha never knew this about her partner. Now it made sense that he'd deny any drugs that would make him drowsy even though his injuries might have hurt like a bitch.

And as she witnessed a desperate Clint, she couldn't help but feel a stab right in where it mattered. She didn't understand how Clint could have such an effect on her. _Maybe it's because you feel responsible for leaving him when he needed you,_ her conscience argued back.

Clint writhed under Tony's hand, while his own fingers still clinged onto the Captain's hand like it was some lifebuoy.

"Help me...Cap. I don-don't wanna...I don't…wanna sleep. Dump some water...on me." Clint mumbled this time, almost incoherent as he near pleaded to the another person he trusted besides Natasha.

Without any doubt in mind, he trusted every single person in this Avengers initiative by now. But he just seemed to be able to identify with Steve better than the rest.

"Hey. Hey Clint, you look at me. Go to sleep. I'll be here to wake you from your nightmares. Trust me." Steve squeezed the archer's hand firmly.

Clint was listening. The words had an effect for he wasn't fighting back as much. His eyes were almost completely closed, his mind was slowing down. But stubborn as he was, he tried his best to refuse the urge to close his eyes.

A last sudden thought sped through Clint's mind. He knew that sleep would be inevitable, and he had one thing he needed to do. He wrenched his hand out from Steve's grasp momentarily, retrieving a bunch of handkerchiefs from his front pocket. The rest looked on dumbstruck. They didn't see that one coming.

"Don't take…'em out." Clint slurred out an order to whoever was listening.

With hands that felt like lead, he heavily stuffed every last handkerchief into his mouth, not a gap seen between his lips. With that, he drowsily sought out for Steve's hand again, still berating himself at the back of his mind even through a cloud of massive fatigue for being so damn weak.

He felt Tony's hand give him one encouraging rub across the chest as it got retracted back to the billionaire's side. His eyes did their best to scan the figures before him. He went from Steve's eyes to Tony's, and onto Bruce's. Finally, his eyes settled on Natasha.

The badass assassin felt uncomfortable under his prolonged gaze, and though his mere pupils were barely discernible now beneath half-closed eyelids, she could feel the power of those striking orbs.

"Just, trust me. _Trust us_." Steve reiterated, coaxing Clint through the final lap to some sleep.

Sure Steve's hand was calming, but Clint found the deep intensity and familiarity in his partner's eyes ultimately the most reassuring. Feeling more at ease to have Natasha in sight, he gave in to the effects of the drugs he digested.

"M'kay." Clint managed to murmur through muffling cloth before he finally fell into an anticipated deep sleep, the last image in his mind being those of Natasha's eyes.

Steve felt the fingers around his own hand loosen, and he placed the hand of the sleeping agent back onto the agent's own chest. He looked at the other three beings that surrounded their sleeping comrade, and he let out a sigh of relief. The Captain reached over to grab a cushion and fell onto his butt, sitting down on the floor right in front of the couch.

"Might as well make ourselves comfortable." He shrugged.

Tony broke into a grin and grabbed a cushion for himself, plopping down on the ground beside Steve. They were like Clint's protectors, standing guard by him while he slept.

"Meanwhile I shall take the liberty to keep you entertained with my favourite collection of movies." Tony said eagerly.

"I'm gonna go cook some dinner." Bruce gave a small smile and went to make himself useful.

"I...need some space." Natasha admitted and walked away quickly, images of her suffering partner still fresh in her mind.

"First up, the classic 'My Girl'. Gotta warn you, might bring tears to your eyes. JARVIS, bring it up please. But turn the volume down." Tony told the A.I. as he got nudged by Steve's elbow out of the blue.

"Hey Stark."

"Hmm what?"

"You're not bad. Hope you know that." Steve smirked, finding that there was so much more to the man in the iron suit.

It actually meant a lot to Tony that someone else, other than Pepper or himself, was giving him praise. But he slipped into his usual humour.

"Tell me something I don't know, Spandex."

Steve shook his head, chuckling. Seeing at how the team managed to go somewhere with their mission in helping their fellow member, words from Clint were now reappearing in his head.

Maybe he was a good leader after all.

**TBC**

* * *

**Yet again I'm sorry for my irregular updates! Halloween has passed me by so quickly, too bad my country doesn't celebrate it much. Did anybody dress up? :D**


	19. Chapter 19

_Steve shook his head, chuckling. Seeing at how the team managed to go somewhere with their mission in helping their fellow member, words from Clint were now reappearing in his head._

_Maybe he was a good leader after all._

* * *

"Quit it." Tony mumbled in a haze of fatigue.

The Captain and he had subliminally dozed off after dinner. Bruce had draped individual blankets over them before retreating back to his lab, while all of them had yet to see Natasha reappear ever since she excused herself earlier.

"Cut it out." The genius growled as he elbowed Steve in the ribs, eyes still closed.

"Ow, what?" Steve groaned, rubbing the sore spot he got hit in blurrily.

Tony mumbled something incoherently under his breath, turning his back towards his companion on the floor as his head still rested against the softness of the couch behind them. Brushing off whatever just happened, both men fell back into light sleep.

It wasn't long before the Cap got a face full of cushion as the annoyed Tony hit him with it. This time, the Cap was woken up out of his sleepy stupor.

"Why do you keep hitting me!" He exclaimed, grabbing the cushion from Tony's grasp and slamming it into the man's head.

"Hey! What was that for?" Tony jumped from his resting position.

"That's what _I_ want to know. First you elbow me in the ribs, and then you hit me in the face with a pillow. What gives?"

"You were hitting me on my shoulder first. A couple of times!"

"I did not!"

"Oh please, who else could it be?"

The heated whispering went on till they caught sight of a writhing Clint beside them on the couch they were lying against before.

"I think I have the answer to your question." Steve cocked his head toward the troubled SHIELD agent in his drug-induced sleep.

Right on cue, a toned arm shot out in a spastic movement, nearly hitting Tony again if not for the current distance between him and the couch.

"Guess our job starts now." He blew out a breath, looking at the Captain.

"Wake him up?" Steve asked tentatively.

"Sounds good." A shrug of shoulders was the answer he got.

As the two got nearer, the murmuring got louder. If not for the muffling from the handkerchief stuffed in his mouth, Clint would have been loud enough to hear even through their sleep.

"Clint, wake up." The Cap whispered.

But the archer was still in deep sleep, and unbeknownst to them, vivid nightmares.

"Rise and shine Cupid." Tony whispered as well.

Clint just kept talking in his sleep, brows knit so tightly in a penetrating frown.

"Clint, you're having a nightmare. Wake up." Steve raised his voice as the agent's thrashing became more intense.

Clint's eyes were darting rapidly beneath his closed eyelids, a sheen of perspiration starting to form across his forehead. His legs started kicking out, catching Tony on his side.

"Ow! What's with all the 'Let's Bruise Tony' tonight?" He complained childishly as he dodged yet another kick.

"Woah oka- ow." Steve got punched a little down south, backing away slightly from the unconscious yet frenetic archer.

"I know right? He definitely packs a punch, god. And he's supposed to be drugged!" The billionaire threw his hands up.

"I almost lost the chance to having a Father's Day. See what I did there? A pop culture reference. _Is it_ a pop culture reference?"

"Meh there's time to figure that out later. Birdbrain needs to wake up. Now."

Steve nodded in agreement, getting closer to the frenzied man. Slowly, he reached out for the archer's arm.

"Hawkeye, wake up!" The Captain nearly shouted, as he gave the sleeping man one vigorous shake.

As soon as skin came into contact with skin, Clint's eyes snapped wide open with agitation and confusion as he screamed into the handkerchiefs he stuffed himself with.

"So that's what the handkerchiefs were for." Tony whispered as he took a cautionary step back.

The man's fists were clenching and unclenching, his breaths short and shallow. The veins that ran from his hands all the way up his biceps throbbed with adrenaline. He had now somehow managed to spit the handkerchiefs out onto the floor and whipped his head towards the Captain all of a sudden, who was still kneeling beside him by the couch.

"Get the hell away from me!" The archer yelled, his heavy hands shoving the fuzzy figure beside him the best that he could.

Steve fell back onto his rear, winded by the sudden push but nonetheless unfazed. He scrambled back up as fast as he went down, hoping to calm his friend down.

"It's me Clint!" He clarified as both his hands tried to hold the still-thrashing man.

Clint was wild. His head kept whipping around like he was surrounded by invisible beings, his eyes hiding a monster's wrath. He felt himself being held down by a blurry figure and tried to get away, but his body wasn't listening, his strength not a hundred percent as he liked it to be.

"Bastard, let me go!" The once-carnie spat through a set of gritted teeth, struggling against his supposed captor.

"Don't just stand there Stark. Do something!" Steve called out as his hands still tried to pin his deranged friend down into the couch.

"You're the strong one!"

"Well, sit on his legs or something! He's moving too much, I can only hold him down for that long!"

"I will, man you're bossy. Gosh don't get your panties in a bunch."

"What? Is that another reference? Because I'm not weari-"

"Too much information Captain Underpants."

Steve struggled to hold his comrade down as he fought against imaginary enemies in his confused subconscious.

"Stop talking Stark, and make yourself useful!" Steve ordered snappily.

"And sit on Barton's legs I shall." Tony acknowledged the order and proceeded to do exactly that.

"Seriously? I was being sarcastic!" Steve reprimanded exasperatedly as he rolled his eyes.

"Well you ain't good at it ma- ahh! Son of a b-!" The inventor got kneed right in the middle while trying to straddle the archer's legs.

"Now there are two of you? Stop screwing with my mind, you sick son of a bitch!" Clint let out a guttural cry.

"You had that coming." The Captain tried to stifle a chuckle unsuccessfully.

"Oh come on really, wake him up!" Tony pleaded with a voice strained with pain as he tried to pin down Clint's legs with his whole body weight.

"Clint, wake up!" The Captain shook the man sharply, trying to snap him out of his conscious nightmare.

"Where's my partner? Did you do something to her? Goddammit Loki!" Clint's face was red by now, the muscles from his face down all tightened.

At the mention of Loki, the two men shared an instant look of sympathy. In the midst of the mini chaos though, Tony raised his gaze and nearly jumped out of his skin to see the aforementioned partner of Clint's staring at the duo trying their best to hold him down.

"How are we all doing tonight?" Natasha spoke with deadpan.

**TBC**

* * *

**DID YOU GUYS SEE JEREMY RENNER ON SNL? THE GUY SINGS AWESOME (Y) Review me, tell me whatcha think about it!**


	20. Chapter 20

_"Where's my partner? Did you do something to her? Goddammit Loki!" Clint's face was red by now, the muscles from his face down all tightened._

_At the mention of Loki, the two men shared an instant look of sympathy. In the midst of the mini chaos though, Tony raised his gaze and nearly jumped out of his skin to see the aforementioned partner of Clint's staring at the duo trying their best to hold him down._

_"How are we all doing tonight?" Natasha spoke with deadpan._

* * *

"How do you sneak up like that all the time jeez!" Tony nearly squealed.

"Something to do with being a master assassin maybe."

"Since you're here, could you hmm...I don't know Romanoff, wake your partner up! Slap him or something!" The usually cocky man exclaimed from his position.

"Before he hurts himself." Steve added on empathetically.

"And us." Tony butted in.

"I will kill you if you touch my partner! I will find you and end you, you frickin' scumbag!" Clint yelled out once more, each time getting more desperate than before and his voice becoming spent.

Steve was starting to understand why Clint had chosen to seek refuge on the roof. With nightmares like this almost every night, he would've woken up most of them with his consistent outbursts. Poor guy. Steve really felt for him, his heart heavier than before. But he couldn't do anything right now except to pull Clint out of his horrific nightmares.

Tony could definitely relate with the nightmares. Their whole Avengers team was bound to be plagued with nightmares with all the emotional baggage they lugged behind their backs as they tried their best to move forward with their lives. Sometimes it was hard, and sometimes it was harder for some people. He was pretty sure Clint had seen much more than he had, and had no doubts that Clint's nightmares would beat his own. This was as serious as a heart attack, the pain of such a situation. Tony didn't know how to help, except slip behind the protection of his humour.

"Uh lady, I'm getting bruises here where bruises shouldn't be. Little help?" Tony beckoned for Natasha yet again, who had been captured in the scene before her.

Upon the plea, the female assassin shook her head to clear whatever thoughts her mind could possibly conjure at the moment. She had never witnessed such a deep and aggressive nightmare of Clint's in all the years they worked together. Now she knew that Loki had indeed done a big number on her partner's sanity, bigger than she expected.

She had gone through many a time, nights when her partner had nightly terrors. Never had she seen one so intense, one that brought out that degree of despair in him. That was a harsh knock of reality on her door, which reflected just how bad the ramifications were when she supposedly left him after the whole Loki debacle.

She advanced towards the back of the couch, leaning over to get a view of her overly-anxious partner and guarded to guide him out of his mental misery.

"There are three of you now? Great! Just stop...multiplying!" Clint squeezed his eyes shut, never once did he stop struggling.

"Clint, stop fighting." Her voice came out smooth, causing the archer to still his movements just for a moment.

Clint let out a rare whimper, blinking rapidly to see his partner's face materialising instead of the God of Mischief's. But he resumed his rough struggling quickly.

"Nice try, duping me with my partner's voice and face?" Clint demanded, his face however starting to fall.

"It's not a trick." Natasha tried again, her voice soothing for a change.

This time, the masculine man on the couch finally stopped his thrashing for the night, looking blankly into the air above him. His breathing was now choppy as a shaky voice near pleaded, "Please...stop messing with my head."

The two other men saw no need to restrain him anymore, releasing their hold on him. Steve backed up slightly while Tony got off his friend's legs. They felt like they were intruding on something private, and decided to leave the two SHIELD agents alone.

"We'll just go." The super soldier whispered, grabbing his fellow Avenger by the elbow.

"I'm not a child, hand off." Stark complained ironically with petulance.

The Black Widow gave them a quick nod of acknowledgement before refocusing her attention onto the partner in front of her, who was now staring into space adamantly and muttering quietly. The two men walked away, leaving Natasha to do her thing, risking one or two glances back over their shoulders.

"...damn mind tricks. Stop..." Natasha caught pieces of Clint's near inaudible mumbling as he clawed the air against non-existent beings, the level now only occupied by him and her.

"Look at me." She ordered softly.

"No! You look just like her, but I know it's all you and your damn magic. Not falling for that. You'd be dead if I could get my hands around your neck." He trailed off harshly with nearly all his energy spent, leaving his body feeling almost powerless and his limbs weak.

He was so tired.

"It's me Clint, snap out of this. Look at me. Ask me any question only I would know."

"I'm begging you. _Please_...get out of my head." Clint squeezed his eyes shut tightly and shook his head hard like he was trying to clear his mind, releasing a wave of soreness that radiated through his skull.

"If you would just look, you stubborn ass!" The female agent forced his head towards her with her own hand exasperatedly.

As he turned, Natasha could see his wide blank eyes but anxious nonetheless. He wasn't _really _awake, that much was apparent. Perhaps she could coax him back into proper sleep. But to her surprise, she heard a familiar sound coming from his mouth.

Clint hadn't been able to contain a chuckle. And a few chuckles after that. Natasha could have sworn that her partner was officially deranged.

**TBC**

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**I genuinely wonder what would go down on stage if Jeremy Renner and Scarlett Johansson win the People's Choice Award for best on-screen chemistry. HEE HEE HEE :D AND AWWW thanks guys, I have more than 200 reviews that's pretty cool :)**


	21. Chapter 21

_Clint hadn't been able to contain a chuckle. And a few chuckles after that. Natasha could have sworn that her partner was officially deranged._

* * *

"Clint?" She probed slowly, in a dilemma of how to proceed with all of this.

"Gotta say, you do sound like my partner when you get all bossy on me." He broke out in a small fond smile, sighing in what Natasha suspected was some sort of comfort or relief.

Nostalgia probably.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, pretty sure. It's cute." He let out light laughter under his breath.

"Cute? I'm anything but cute. I'm exactly the opposite and you know it." She said, but contradicted herself by smoothing down his messy hair.

"I like it. You ordering me around." He shrugged adorably, a dazed smile etched on his face.

Natasha simply stared back, a bit lost by now with such an abrupt change in his mood. But figures, he was still contained in his own dreams where anything and everything was possible...the Black Widow shuddered slightly.

"Oh yeah? Go to sleep. Or I'll kick your ass." She put a demanding edge to her voice, playing along.

Clint's breathing was slowing down, his subconscious registering the familiarity of his partner's typical character.

"I doubt it. You don't really like to see me anymore...I know I must remind you of something bad. I'd take a lifetime of ass-kicking if it meant you still cared though. Real you, I mean. Not dream you." The marksman admitted in hazy mumbles, smiling but sadly this time.

Natasha froze instantaneously. Was being so indifferent really for the best? Now she was beginning to doubt her decision. She watched intently as Clint did a weirdly familiar ritual.

His right hand drifted up to the left side of his ribs just right under his chest, and he proceeded to slide his hand down till he reached the top of his hip. And he did it again. Comforting himself.

One slide. Two slides down. Third slide's the charm.

He then gave himself two pats directly above where his heart was, finally letting out a satisfactory sigh.

With that he seemed to gradually drift off into slumber, leaving Natasha frowning at the whole routine.

She had seen it before. In fact, she had always been the one doing it.

It kinda just happened after Clint had been her partner for a couple of years, when they had grown to trust each other. It wasn't uncommon for them to share one bed during a mission, and Clint always favoured the right side. Why? She didn't know, nor did she need to know. She remembered it vaguely, the night she started such a routine...there wasn't much to it actually.

_**Flashback**_

_The two had just finished a mission and had gone to bed. Exhaustion led to a warm welcome for sleep, and for one of the very few times, they fell asleep beside each other fairly quickly. _

_Natasha's sleep was destined to be disturbed however, for she was awoken by her partner's violent shaking. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she turned to face the extremely tense back of Clint. He was perspiring through his shirt, curled up on his right side and facing away from her. She didn't need to see his face to know he was having a nightmare._

_Nightmares were a norm for people like them. She had yet to grow comfortable with providing comfort for her partner during such night terrors. She had her own fair share of them that was certain, and she was pretty sure her partner knew about them too. _

_Why? Because he secretly held her hand when she did get them nightmares. His thumb would skim over her knuckles in reassurance, and for quite some time Natasha thought it was all in her head. That was until she awoke abnormally early one morning to find a sleeping Clint with his hand wrapped around hers. That was when she decided to trust the guy wholeheartedly._

_With that in mind, Natasha made a revolutionary decision and reached her hand out only to pause in mid-air, unsure of what to do exactly. His hands were clasped together tightly under his head, his body still facing away from her in a fetal position. On a whim, she decided to give him a reassuring slide down the left side of his torso which was really one of the few areas her hand had access to._

_Upon the first rub down, she felt Clint's whole being stiffen under her touch as his shaking became slightly less vigorous. Contemplating, she gave him a second rub down. This time, she felt her partner's muscles slowly relaxing, his rigid posture losing its stiffness. Thus she gave him a third one for good measure, which gave her the pleasing sound of his ragged breathing ideally slowing down._

_Satisfied, she gave him a customary two gentle pats which happened to be over where the thumping source of life laid within. She heard him giving a long exhale through his nose, his breaths starting to even out as he fell back into sleep._

_Since then, it became an unspoken ritual she did even when she was half-asleep, whenever she sensed that Clint had a nightmare._

_He never did know she was the one who kick started his unique self-comforting methods._

_**End Of Flashback**_

The day so far had been full of pure shock and surprise, and apparently it didn't stop there. Now in the wee hours, a stunned Natasha was yet again surprised that her partner's subconscious had actually memorised her small routine. It also made her wonder if Clint had grown to comfort himself like this in the time that she wasn't there to. Like for the past few months.

She began to retreat into her room to hide from all the feelings she was experiencing. All the guilt washed over her once again, propelling her to walk away from Clint.

Again.

At least for now.

**TBC**

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**Greatest apologies for being so absent recently! Been busy with studies and food poisoning HEHEH. That aside, MERRY CHRISTMAS PEEPS the new year is coming :)**


	22. Chapter 22

_She began to retreat into her room to hide from all the feelings she was experiencing. All the guilt washed over her once again, propelling her to walk away from Clint._

_Again._

_At least for now._

* * *

Natasha didn't get much sleep throughout the night. Her heart had sunk within itself seeing her partner fall apart in her absence. The cries that ripped from Clint's throat did no help in keeping her up.

After returning to her room the first time, a flurry of muffled noises prompted her departure from the barrier of her room. She found herself drawn to the man in the couch, writhing in psychological agony yet again. This time, she took the initiative to comfort him and found satisfaction in seeing the pained look on her partner's face fade away with her touch.

"Only you Barton." She exhaled heavily, "Only you."

As soon as he became quiet, she silently returned to her room mumbling to herself "If this was Stark, I'd have kicked his ass to Mars."

Until Clint got caught up in his nightmares yet again. She wondered how long exactly he could go on like this. Like the previous time, she did the exact same thing to calm him down. She didn't want him to wake up just yet because they all knew he really needed this sleep.

By the fourth time she had to return to his side, she decided to just camp by the couch. Lying down on a few cushions, Natasha rested her interlocked fingers on her stomach and let the wheels in her mind turn rapidly as she went through what had transpired. There was no sleep to be gained for the assassin anytime soon.

As morning came, and Clint showed no signs of stirring anymore, Natasha stood up from her position on the floor with the intent of getting at least some sleep back in her room. Dusting off her shirt, she gave the archer a lingering glance. She sighed, her hand now cradling one side of his cheek as her thumb soothed his facial muscles. In his sleep Clint leaned into her touch, gravitating to the inviting source of heat.

"You're the first real friend I ever had. I'm sorry that I'm such a sucky one." She whispered softly under her breath.

It took some determination for the Widow to retract her hand, and she trudged begrudgingly back to her room to get some shut-eye for a couple of hours more and hoping that her partner would too.

* * *

Noon had already arrived and the sun was right above the city. People were supposed to be bustling around, on their lunch break or at work. But no, not the Avengers. Bruce for one was awake and had been in his lab since bright and early in the morning. He had dropped by everybody's rooms with every passing hour, waiting for them to rise and shine but it seemed like they had a rough night for none were waking up soon.

Tony was sleeping like a log, or a hedgehog in hibernation. Whichever worked. Steve had a frown on his forehead, no doubt an unpleasant dream but it disappeared within seconds. Bruce hadn't dared to enter Natasha's room, but from what he knew, she would be up and running around the tower or at their training space if she were awake.

As for Clint, he was still knocked out on the couch where he was left yesterday. Bruce didn't expect him to wake till later in the day, especially with how much he drugged him. The archer seemed to be sleeping well, his slumber undisturbed to the eye. But Bruce knew better than to take things at surface level. He just hoped that this seemingly peaceful sleep would stay for a while longer.

About two to three hours later, Tony made his appearance in the lab while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Hey Banner, morning." The billionaire yawned loudly.

"Afternoon Stark." The bespectacled man chuckled in response.

"Oh man, it's been a long time since I slept in so late. Last night was tiring, and painful to say the least. My bruises have already formed." The man-child pouted as he neared Bruce.

"Rough night huh?" Bruce frowned, eager to know more about what had happened.

"Yeah. Barton was having nightmares, with his eyes open but he wasn't really awake. Your drugs suck. He totally kicked my ass even when he was dopey."

The doctor hummed in response, "Maybe drugs were a bad idea after all."

"It did get him to sleep though. When Steve and I left him, Romanoff was there. I have no idea what she did."

"Well it seemed to have worked out fine, 'cause his sleep has been undisturbed for the past six or seven hours that I've been up."

"Go Black Widow. Speaking of which, where's she?"

"Sleeping in her room. I think. I didn't dare to open her door. I'd still like all my fingers attached to my hand, thank you."

"You scaredy-cat."

"What are you, ten?"

"Who's ten?" The Captain strolled into the lab with a cup of coffee.

"Nothing. Hey thanks for the coffee." Tony took the cup from Steve's hands swiftly.

"Hey!...Never mind." Steve knew arguing with the genius never helped him simply because he could never win that smart-assed mouth of his.

Bruce began to remove his safety goggles and lab coat, which caught the attention of the other two guys in the lab.

"Going somewhere Doc?" Steve inquired intently.

"Yeah, just checking on Clint. Come with?"

"Sure, why not. I've been meaning to check on him."

"Me three!" Tony exclaimed behind the cup of coffee upon his lips.

The other two just rolled their eyes.

* * *

"Amazing. He's still sleeping." Tony stood over his fellow Avenger by the same couch.

"Is he in a coma?" Steve asked just in case to cover all bases, though it was highly unlikely.

"He's just extremely, extremely sleep-deprived." Bruce answered with a slight laugh at the Captain's question.

"Huh. We did good, team." Tony announced, injecting a faked tone of superiority in his voice.

"That's my line." Steve argued playfully.

"It's nobody's line."

"I'm the Captain."

"I'm the genius."

"Lunch?" Bruce suggested randomly.

"Shawarma! They have delivery services now." Tony answered gleefully, having taken a weird obsession with the food.

"Really? No. No more shawarma." Steve shook his head adamantly.

"It's just _one_ meal for _one_ day." The billionaire reasoned stubbornly.

"That's what you said last time! We ended up having shawarma for a week." Steve refuted, having grown queasy to even the mention of shawarma.

"I vote no on the shawarma too." Bruce shuddered, swearing he could still taste the wrap he ate too much of.

"Thank you!" The Captain exclaimed, exasperated.

"Never would I imagine you two to gang up against me. It hurts you know." Tony rubbed his arc reactor patronisingly.

"You'll get over it." Steve refuted.

"Pizza?" The meekly doctor suggested randomly like he did before.

"I'll cook."

The three men who had by now gravitated towards the kitchen counter froze and whipped their head towards the stern voice with wide eyes.

Shit. Now that he was awake, they weren't really certain of how things were gonna be between all of them. Hard feelings? They hoped not. Behind his back, Tony crossed his fingers while Steve mumbled a prayer as the marksman stared into their souls with stormy unblinking eyes.

**TBC**

* * *

**OH GOSHH it's been sooooo long and I'm sooooo sorry! :( hope this makes up for some of it!**


	23. Chapter 23

_Shit. Now that he was awake, they weren't really certain of how things were gonna be between all of them. Hard feelings? They hoped not. Behind his back, Tony crossed his fingers while Steve mumbled a prayer as the marksman stared into their souls with stormy unblinking eyes._

* * *

"What? I know how to cook." Clint frowned back at them as he stifled a yawn.

Tony for one had a smile basically plastered on his face now, while Steve was standing rigidly against the counter and Bruce sneaked a few peeks at Clint. In short, they hadn't moved an inch.

To help him sleep was one thing, to face him when he woke up was another. They had no idea how to be themselves around him having seen him at his vulnerable point, and they didn't want to step on his toes any further. They continued to stare dazedly.

"I'm speaking English. Do you not understand?" Clint spoke intentionally slow, mocking the three with his tone.

The three simply blinked at him.

"Okay stop, seriously. The staring, it's weird. Way to make a guy feel special." Clint said in such deadpan that laughter was induced.

The edges of Tony's eyes crinkled in genuine amusement now. Steve started to chuckle once he understood the implications of what Clint had actually meant, and the Doctor was now smiling shyly while looking directly in Clint's eyes.

Hawkeye gave a subtle smirk of his own, having dissipated the previous tension in the atmosphere. He knew that they hadn't a clue how to act around him after the night he had. When he showcased himself as a big baby. But for once in a very long time, he felt rested. And a more smiley Clint Barton came along as a packaged deal.

He walked towards the group, eyes with gratitude for the concern they showered him with. Concern that he felt he still wasn't worthy of. They watched him with expectant eyes.

"Thank you. For yesterday night. I freaked, sorry 'bout that." Clint admitted shyly with a hand behind his scalp.

If anyone were to notice that the famous Hawkeye had an occasionally shy personality like right now, they didn't utter a word about it

"It's nothing, Big Bird. Compared to the punch you gav-" The billionaire was cut off when he got elbowed in the stomach.

"Compared to the punch he imagined you'd give him for his spying." Steve interrupted, not wanting to add on to Clint's guilt about hurting the people he cared about.

"Yeah about that. I won't do it again." Tony glared at Steve in retaliation though his words were aimed at the archer.

"And I'm _really_ sorry for drugging you." Bruce voiced quietly from his spot.

"Nah it's okay, though I wouldn't say I'd wanna go through that again, you guys were trying to help. I don't deserve the apologies." Clint was actually getting embarrassed with all the 'sorry's and attention he was getting, smiling abashedly.

One by one, they clapped Clint on his arm as sign of support.

"If you need anything, company, someone to talk to maybe...or someone to provide some warm human contact, we're available." Tony offered, without failing to wriggle his eyebrows in suggestion.

"Stop trying to sell us like gigolos." Steve admonished in slight repulse.

Clint laughed lightly, "I get it. Thanks."

He clapped his hands, rubbing his palms together as he continued, "So, food?"

"Is it edible?" Tony ribbed his favourite and only archer he knew.

"Why does nobody believe I can cook? For god sakes, I'm a SHIELD agent. Isn't it necessary for me to have basic culinary skills? I swear..." The world-class assassin trailed off as he separated from them to get a start on in the kitchen.

Behind him, his three trusty comrades were beaming as they nodded in affirmation at one another. They believed Clint Barton was on the right route back to normalcy. Whatever his assassin-like normal was.

The key word was 'believed'.

* * *

"I hate you by the way." Tony clarified from his place at the table they were eating, a finger extended to emphasise his point.

"How could you hate the guy?" Bruce argued with his mouth full.

"Seriously!" Steve exclaimed with some sauce dribbling down the side of his mouth.

"I know you're talking about me but come on guys, complete your sentences! Then maybe I can stop asking what's going on all the time." Clint groaned as he fed himself distastefully, not really in the mood for food.

"You call this _basic_ culinary skills?" Steve asked in bemusement.

"You shoot with astonishing accuracy, you sing extraordinarily, and you cook divinely. What are you? God?" Tony mumbled, but couldn't help but lick his plate.

"Agreed." Steve and Bruce echoed their consent because the billionaire was right, Clint was...awesome.

"This is great, we're getting to know you better and you're amazing! Surprise me more." Tony urged playfully.

"I'm just me. What else could I be?" Clint smirked weakly as he got up with his plate, food half-eaten.

_A mindless zombie under Loki's rule. You? There is no 'you'_, a voice in his head mocked him.

"Is that all you're eating? It wasn't even a big portion to start with." Bruce inquired with concern etched on his face.

"Not really hungry today." Clint simply shrugged with no intention of going down this conversation, now concentrating on washing his dishes.

"I will never ever get used to a tough guy like you washing the dishes, just so you know." Tony pointed out nonchalantly.

Clint gave a subtly sad grin, "And you'd know better than to stop me by now."

Indeed, the proud Stark wouldn't even touch a hair of his comrade when he was busy doing his dishes routine. There was a dishwasher in the kitchen of course. Nothing less was expected in the property of Tony Stark. But Clint just refused to use it, always preferring to resort to the use of manual labour. It confused his fellow team members to no end, and multiple times have they questioned themselves about his weird obsession with washing dishes. He would twitch minutely when he did, and it wasn't like they haven't tried to persuade him out of such a menial task. All he knew was that Clint simply loved doing the dishes. He said so himself.

_**Flashback**_

_It was officially the first proper group dinner the Avengers had excluding shawarma. In the tower Tony stared holes through the back of his tautly-muscled friend scrubbing diligently at all their dirty dishes and utensils. He flashed a mischievous grin at the rest who were present, which would include Steve, Bruce and Natasha. Steve returned the grin with a skeptical look of his own, while Bruce made a lame excuse to leave as he didn't want to stay for whatever consequences would ensue. Natasha rolled her eyes, trying not to care._

_Tony, for a start, had tried to convince Clint that a premium host like himself wouldn't allow anyone to do a job that could be easily done by his automatons. The billionaire then tried to pull his friend's hand off the rinsed plate but was brushed off with a shoulder nudge. When that failed he tried to take the plate away from him instead. That would have worked if not for the archer's amazingly vice grip on the slippery object._

_The genius refused to relent and as playful as he was, he grabbed a fistful of the back of Clint's shirt and gave it a moderate tug that couldn't hurt a fly. However the gift he got back was a strong shove against the chest, causing Tony to stumble backwards at the sudden out-lash and onto his butt. Frowning, Clint had then offered a hand to the surprised man on the floor, accompanied by a gruff "I didn't mean to. Next time just…back off."_

_Tony's face was still one of surprise as he grabbed the extended hand and pulled himself up, dusting pff his pants. As swiftly as he left his post at the sink, Clint returned to his modest task. He scrubbed even harder at the already pristine dishes, rough skin slowly turning red and raw. In his mind, he relived his time at the orphanage._

**TBC**

* * *

**I know I suck for taking such a long break, I'm really sorry! It's getting harder to get the time to write :(**

**But it's Easter, and...I had a 1 day break so here goes nothing! Do tell me what you think about it, I feel like I've lost my oomph after such a long time :P HAPPY EASTER! 3**


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